


Save Me, Love Me

by TheWildChild



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Dark Past, Destroying Childhood Memories, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Oblivious guys, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, The level of stupidity is off the hook, past Abduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5208587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWildChild/pseuds/TheWildChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Patrick is hit by a car, he realizes what he could have missed and decide to try and act about his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Was Hit By A Car And All I Got Was This Stupid One Way Ticket To The Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I need to talk about some things. So, first of all, english is not my native language so I hope I didn't murder your alphabet.  
> Second of all, I daydream. Like, A LOT. Too much for it to be healthy, I presume. I daydreamed about this scenario (a little differently but well) while listening to Save Rock And Roll from the band so I wanted to write it. I don't expect it to be good but I hope it is enough for you to enjoy the story. I didn't had time to write more right away but if you like it, I will try to work on the next chapter tonight. I feel like this chapter is just crap 'cause I didn't really took my time to write it. You know, excitation, and all this kind of shit. It doesn't really help.  
> Third point, Joetrick is my life.

**_Until your breathing stops (stops stops)_ **

**_Until your breathing stops (stops stops)_ **

**_Until your (your, your, your, your)_ **

**_Forever, forever_ **

 

How much of a stupid guy could he be to have one of his own song stuck in his head when he was on the ground after being hit by a car? It happened so fast. He heard a person screaming "Watch out!", he turned around fast enough to see the car of this asleep driver coming right at him. He never felt this way in his whole life. Even when the bullies were shoving him into a locker, even when they were mocking him because of his appearance, even when his uncle was beating him. This time, he was really afraid. He had put his arms in font of him, pushing them against the car's hood by reflex to lift himself a little. At least, he didn't went through the windshield. But damn, he hit it hard enough for it to break. But on the moment he didn't feel it. When his poor body landed on the grass, his head hit the ground and everything was black during a few seconds. He could hear someone asking to call an ambulance, he could hear people gathering, the driver saying he felt asleep and trying to see if he was ok. He could hear all of that but not clearly, there was a weird noise in his ears. The voices and all the noises were stifled because of that. All he could really hear and listen to was this song, since he touched the ground. How could he? "Save Rock And Roll" was resonating in his head like it was the appropriate moment. His precious hat was also on the ground, not far. He opened his eyes. It was all blurry. He could barely distinguish shapes around him, people panicking but looking at him. It seemed they reacted when he opened his eyes. At least, he was still conscious. He blinked slowly a few times and it hurt. He felt something warm run against his temple. His own blood. A cut on his forehead. He tried to breathe and the song continued.

 

**_I need more dreams_ **

**_And less life_ **

 

He didn't want to die. Not like that. He was so afraid, his stomach was making him suffer because of the fear. Or was it because of the big glass piece embedded in his belly? When he breathed again, he could feel it. And it hurt so bad. He lifted his left arm. But when he hit the windshield, he rolled against it, first with the front of his body, and after with his arm, before he finally hit the ground. Because of that, he had little pieces of glass in his arm as well. But he kept directing his fingers to his main injury. He blinked again, felt a tear rolling until it fades in his ear. He could feel the glass, making it dirty because of the blood on his fingers. But still, he pressed them with the rest of his strength on it.

 

**_I need that dark_ **

**_In a little more light_ **

**_I cried tears you'll never see_ **

 

Some people had recognize him, one of them was filming, the others were panicking, trying to help but they didn't know if they could touch him.

 

**_So fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean_ **

 

And as this lyric flew through Patrick's head, he removed the piece of glass from his body with a moan of pain thanks to his shaking hand. The other one was on the injury, his blood passing between his fingers like an unstoppable flow. Someone knelt next to him, removing his sweater. Patrick let the glass fall on the ground before he felt the guy pressing the fabric against his cut after he moved Patrick's hand. It seemed like the guy was talking to him but all Patrick could do was looking at the bright sky and feel his tears.

 

**_And leave me be_ **

**_You are what you love_ **

**_Not who loves you_ **

 

He thought about Joe.

 

**_In a world full of the word 'Yes'_ **

**_I'm here to scream_ **

 

He cried for Joe. He wanted to see him, be in his arms right now. Why didn't he tell him how he felt when he realized it? Instead, he kept it burried inside of him and now he was regretting. Maybe he was afraid of being rejected once again, like he had be his whole life. Even with the band, the fame, he didn't feel like he deserved to be with someone because he didn't have any self-esteem anymore. He grabbed the guy's wrist, blinking a few times because of the tears. Now, he could hear the voice of the man, without even understand the rest of the noises around him.

"You have to stay still. Everything will be fine. Don't use your strength and stay with me." It wasn't the guy with the sweater against him, it was a man from the ambulance he didn't even hear arriving. Maybe his life was about to be saved.

"You call the hospital, he will need an intervention."

He was probably talking to his colleague but all Patrick could do was shaking his head.

 

**_No, no_ **

**_Wherever I go, go_ **

**_Trouble seems to follow_ **

**_I only plugged in to save rock and roll_ **

**_Rock and roll, no_ **

**_Wherever I go, go_ **

**_Trouble seems to follow_ **

**_I only plugged in to save rock and roll_ **

**_Until your breathing stops (stops stops)_ **

**_Until your breathing stops (stops stops)_ **

**_Until your (your, your, your, your)_ **

**_Forever, forever_ **

 

"Patrick, you need to stay still."

Someone had informed the guy of his name, apparently. He shook his head again, it made him dizzy.

" _I_ -I..."

"Don't talk, Patrick, I need you to stay calm."

 

**_Blood brothers in desperation_ **

**_An oath of silence for the voice of our generation_ **

 

"I-I... I need to... To..."

"Patrick. Please."

"Call... Joe..."

 

**_Whoa, how'd it get to be only me?_ **

**_Like I'm the last damn kid still kicking_ **

**_That still believes_ **

He felt himself falling into the unconsciousness but he couldn't let that happen. He blinked and tried to breath again. It hurt so bad. The second man put a mask against his face.

"Patrick, I need you to breathe now, can you do it? Take deep breaths."

He panicked. He couldn't, he wasn't able to. His throat was burning him as he tried to move, to remove the mask from his face. The guys tried to keep him against the ground.

 

**_I will defend the faith_ **

**_Going down swinging I will save the songs_ **

**_That we can't stop singing_ **

 

"Stop panicking, Patrick, you need to calm down!"

The guys pushed Patrick against the ground again and the one always talking to him did it again, softer.

"Calm down and breath slowly."

For the first time, Patrick took a look at him and kept staring.

"I know you're afraid, but you need to try."

He was starting to feel himself leaving again but he tried. And finally, he felt the air in his lungs again.

 

He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he was presumably in the ambulance. He wanted to blink again but couldn't open his eyes after that.


	2. I Had This Hardcore Surgery And All I Got Were Bandages And Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete, Joe and Andy go in the hospital to wait for Patrick's surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is heeeere. (no kidding)  
> I want to precise a CAPITAL INFORMATION: Joe has the haircut from the Centuries music video. Yeah, no curly hair, why? Because he's really hot with that haircut too and I don't want our poor Patrick to have hair in his mouth when he will finally be with and kiss him, that should be two good reasons !  
> Well, I hope you will like it.  
> Thank for the few kudos I received, I hope you will like the story.  
> It's like 1 am in Belgium, I stayed awake to write it, I hope I didn't make too much mistakes.

They had the impression a bomb had exploded in their head when they heard about the accident. The fact was, Patrick didn't really have a family, he gave Pete's number to call if anything happened to him and that he had to go to the hospital. But that was not the way they learned about it. The video shooted by one of the girl just after the accident was posted on the Internet and was rapidly shared by the fans. So, instead of having a phone call by the hospital once Patrick arrived, they had the very great pleasure to see how it went. His body on the ground, his tears, his fear, his pain. Joe was certain he heard his name during the only time the suffocating Patrick talked but he kept it to himself. They ran to Andy's car as Pete called their label. He wanted them to take care of the video while they were going to the hospital.

They were silent during most of the time. Andy was driving, Pete was on the passenger seat, on the phone during a moment and Joe was behind them, looking at the exterior. When Pete hung up his phone, he turned towards Joe. He looked at him a moment before he did the same with Andy. Finally, he stared right in front of him.

"Can't you go faster?" He finally asked. Andy didn't answer. They were all tensed and he thought keeping his "to have an accident too?" in his mind was the better thing to do. He was driving fast enough. Joe couldn't stop thinking about the video. He felt his eyes being itchy and crossed his arms against him, more like a gesture to feel safe in his mind. Pete looked at him again, hearing the movement of the fabric of Joe's shirt.

"He will be alright." He said.

Joe didn't answer either. He turned his head to look at Pete before looking down.

"Joe, I'm telling you, he-"

"We don't know that!" Joe snapped, surprising himself. He sighed, feeling bad but not enough to tell he was sorry. When Pete opened his mouth again, he didn't let him talk. "You saw him... You heard the guy... He will have surgery, he... There was blood, so much blood and... It was in him, didn't we look at the same video?"

"And what if I want to believe he will be fine, Joe? What if I like to think one of my best friends will survive?"

"Guys..." Andy finally said. He didn't want them to fight over this.

Joe bit his lip from the inside of his mouth and looked through the window again. He heard Pete saying "Everything will be fine" once again and they stayed silent for good until the hospital called Pete, this one saying they were already on their way.

 

* * *

 

Because of the video, of course, there were already journalists in front of the hospital. But the guys didn't care and didn't stop even to say they could fuck off. They entered in the hospital like a storm, looking around them. They went to find someone to tell them where their friend was. After she looked in her computer, the woman told them he was currently having surgery and told them where they could wait. They did as they were told and took the elevator, still silent. When they arrived in the hallway, their attention was captured by a boy and his parents. Not because they were there but more because he stood up and walked towards them. His mother did as well to stop him but he kept walking. That's when Andy hit softly Joe in the arm, showing the woman with his chin. She had a sweater stained with blood in her hands. It was the boy from the video, the one that tried to stop the bleeding.

"You..." Began Pete.

"I'm James. Um... Here." He said as he slowly gave back Patrick's hat. He looked seventeen, or around that age. "The paramedics asked me to join them in the ambulance, since I knew who he was." Andy took the hat and thanked James.

"Do you know how he is?" Joe asked. The boy shook his head.

"He fell unconscious. I just know he asked for you. And now he's having surgery for the injury on his stomach. I don't know if you know exactly what happened there but..."

Pete sighed and the boy stopped talking, he apologized. Pete shook his head.

"Um... It's not that. We saw the video."

James swallowed and looked down.

"Yeah, there was a lot of people. They... are stupid." He shook his head again, feeling sorry.

"James. Thank you for your help." Andy was always there for this kind of things.

"I-It's okay. I don't know if moving this glass was helpful but I knew he would only bleed more. I had to do something." He finally said. Pete was about to say something when he turned his head toward Joe. This one was walking slowly, looking at two big and closed doors.

"He's in there." Added James. "Since a while now. I don't know if we will have news soon."

 

* * *

 

 

Pete looked at his phone again. They were in the hospital for so long, but at the same time he didn't have the impression the time has passed. He was sitting where the boy was before he left. He wanted to stay to give back the hat and explain them the situation, he was sad he had to meet them under those circumstances but well. He was glad he could help. Finally, someone walked through the doors. The three men stood up directly. It was a nurse and she stopped in front of them.

"How is he?" Andy suddenly asked. The woman gave them a little smile.

"You don't have to worry anymore. His days are no longer in danger." She could hear long sighs of relief from the three guys.

"So, when can we see him? Is he now totally okay?" Pete asked.

"Not now. The surgery is almost done. The surgeon will come himself when it will be done and you will be able to see him. But you will have to let him rest during a while and I don't think he will wake up before tomorrow."

There was a silence, another sigh and Joe crossed his arms again before he murmured a "thank you". Again, she smiled and said she needed Pete for the paperwork, since he was the one they had to call if there was an emergency. He left with the young woman and Andy and Joe sat again. The guitarist let his elbows against his knees. He was trying to keep the tears inside, he really was for hours now. Since the moment he saw the video until the relief, he now had to let out his feelings. But since he didn't want to do it in front of the guys, even if they knew each other for awhile now, he contained himself until there. But he couldn't anymore. Since he kept everything inside, the first thing Andy heard was a sob and when he looked at his friend, he could see him slightly shaking as he let his tears falling on the ground, his hands maintaining his forehead. Andy bit his lip and pressed softly Joe's shoulder between his fingers. He didn't say anything right away, he knew he had to let Joe cry for a while but he also had to let him know he was there for him if he wanted to talk. That's why he waited for Joe to straighten a little by himself. 

"I-I'm sorry. I'm just glad he's okay..."

"Yeah, I know you are, Joe. You don't worry."

Joe had always found funny how Andy was. Despite his appearance, he always said he was a princess. His soft voice and his way of talking were always making him smile. That's what he did, looking at the drummer.

"I shouldn't have snapped at Pete, he didn't do anything wrong."

"Maybe. But I don't think he's upset, you know."

Joe nodded slowly, wiping his cheek. He looked down again and Andy removed his hand from his shoulder.

"I know he isn't. I mean, I'm sure he understands too, you know. Like I do."

Joe closed his eyes a second, trying to determine what language Andy was suddenly starting to use.

"What?" Was all he could ask. Andy smiled a little and looked at Joe.

"What do you think? That we are blind? At least, I know I'm not."

Joe was unprepared.

"I'm not sure for Pete but it's not like it was discreet."

Joe suddenly wanted to die, to be blasted or at least not there. He prefered to play the "didyousmokesomething" card.

"What? Andy, what are you talking about?"

His friend smiled and looked in front of him, joining his hands between his legs. He stayed silent for a moment.

"The way you look at him, the way you listen to him, the way you talk to him. I mean, it's not my fault if he's oblivious."

Joe stared at his friend. He couldn't help but feel really pleased when Pete came back, interrupting their conversation.

"Missed me?"

He was apparently filming. Joe frowned and leaned against the back of his chair.

"That's not quite the feeling."

Pete laughed and shook his head, Andy smiling at Pete's phone.

"I just want to show the fans everything's fine, stop sulking Trohman."

 

* * *

 

Finally, the surgeon came out. He smiled at the guys and explained them the surgery went very well and that he was going to show them the survivor. They couldn't wait, they wanted to see him right away but they try to follow calmly the doctor.

"He hit his head against the ground after the car hit him but despite that, it seems it's not that serious. The boy that was with him said he reacted to the animation around him following the accident and didn't stay unconscious right away, it was more because of the blood lost. But I will still have to do some exams when he will be awake, we can't be too sure."

"And for the injury you operated on?" Joe asked.

"It's fine, we had to verify it didn't cut any internal organ but he had surgery because some pieces of glass were still inside his body, not only because he removed it but more because it broke when it entered in. But everything is fine, now. We checked properly and there is nothing more. He also had glass pieces in his arm but it's removed and superficial. Your friend will be fine."

They couldn't expect better news. They finally arrived in front of the room. The surgeon turned around and looked at them.

"Well, you can stay inside for two hours but visiting hours are almost over. Only the family is allowed to stay."

The three guys exchanged a look before Pete talked again.

"Well, about that... He doesn't have any... I mean, his parents... Died when he was young. And he doesn't know the rest of his family." Well, he did but, let's say he would prefer not knowing them. "Does he have to stay alone?"

The surgeon looked at them a moment, hesitating.

"I guess I can do an exception. But let's be clear. He needs to rest. Even if he wakes up, you can't disturb him."

"Promised." Pete said.

They could finally go into Patrick's room. It wasn't totally dark since the windows' blinds were open and the light of a little lamp was on in a corner of the room. They slowly walked towards the bed, looking at their friend. He was pale. Like really pale. Even if he was sleeping, he seemed so tired. There were cables, one stuck with a needle in his right hand and one at his nose. His left arm had a bandage too, from his wrist to his elbow. The machine near the bed was beeping at a regular rhythm. He had a bandage on his head, from the back to his forehead, his soft hair slightly overlapping it there. The cover stopped to cover him at his waist. They could easily imagine the bandages under his ugly patient's gown. But at least, he was alright. His chest was slowly moving at the rhythm of his breath.

Joe and Andy turned their head towards Pete when they heard the sound of a photo taken.

"What the hell are you doing, fucker?" Joe whispered. Pete smiled.

"What? I'm showing this dickhead to the fans. It's too priceless."


	3. I Thought I Was About To Wake Up In Heaven But Those Four Dudes Are No Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Patrick wakes up, his behavior is not good for everyone and might open old wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while but here it is.  
> So yeah, I'm thinking this chapter is really confusing, maybe because I shouldn't write when I'm that tired. Anyway, if it's understandable, you will learn a bit more about Patrick and Joe's past. It's not very clear right now but I'm thinking of work on that past in the next chapter. It will probably be shorter but I'm not sure already.

"And what if you put his hat on his head?" Brendon's distant and very muffled voice asked.

"Nah, the photo will never be funny enough..." Pete was replying as a buzz took place around the voices.

"But look, if I draw mustaches and a monocle on him with the marker, maybe..."

"Guys! His hand!" Said suddenly Joe.

"What, should we also draw something on it?" Brendon asked.

"No, you idiot, it moved!"

The buzz had stopped but he still couldn't see anyone as he heard some weird noises getting closer. He tried to move. His body was still asleep. But something captured his friends attention and made them gathered around his bed. He couldn't understand why they would all watch him sleep and why he couldn't just open his eyes.  
Pete took a housing near the bed and press the button to call the nurse. They said they had to use it if he was waking up. The sound it made resounded in Patrick's ears as it sounded more like a hooter. It made him suddenly feel insecure and panicked. It was all dark as the voices on his left side were replaced by screamings. In the room, the four boys heard thanks to the machine Patrick's heartbeat increasing. Was it normal? The doctor and a nurse were rapidly coming inside the room. The four musicians pulled away a little to let space for the professionals as they were concerned about the reaction Patrick's heart had as he was waking up. The memories actually hit Patrick very hard, it was like he was living the accident again. That's how he understood he wasn't in his own bedroom, being stalked by four idiots but in the hospital after the accident. He felt again the taste of his own blood on his tongue and felt like he couldn't breathe when it was only his imagination.

But suddenly, everything became calm. He could feel himself moving his fingers, his toes, his shoulders and finally, he could open his eyes. He did it slowly and it was all blurred as he tried to look around. This room was very bright and he closed his eyes again. He tried to move a little but felt a warm hand against his arm. It was the injured one and he was only going to hurt himself if he was moving it too much. He tried to swallow his saliva without any success and he opened his eyes again as he started to cough, making the awakening really brutal as he felt a lot of pain near his stomach. It just made him straighten because of the sudden pain and it hurt even more. So yeah, he stopped coughing but instead, he was moaning because of the pain. The doctor helped him calming down and helped him lay on the mat again.

"Patrick, listen to me."

Now he was feeling everything again, it was really hurting. It's with a broken voice that he talked: "It hurts..."

He moaned again.

"I know but first of all, I need you to calm down. I need you to breathe slowly, Patrick, can you do that?" He asked. Patrick did. It was hard but he tried his best and did breathe slower. It was already better but he was still feeling his injuries being painful. But despite of that, he looked around him to see his friends. He blinked a few times before he smiled. He muttered a little "Guys" and they automatically smiled.

The doctor sat on the bed's edge, keeping a hand on Patrick's shoulder.

"Can you look at me, Patrick?"

He wasn't really focused as his eyes were locked in Joe's. He finally looked at the doctor.

The nurse slowly raised a part of the bed for Patrick for him to be more straightened. It hurt but it was already better than totally lying down. After that, she brought a glass of water and helped Patrick drinking it. He could finally thank her and he looked at the doctor again when this one asked him to.

"Your friends stayed with you all night long, they were very worried." He said and Patrick looked at them again. "Can you look at me, Patrick?" the doctor asked for the third time. Patrick did as he was asked, frowning a little.

"Yeah, I can look at you, I already did..." He finally said with a low tone. The doctor smiled.

"I know but you hit your head hard. I just need to verify a few things as your comprehension of what I'm saying to you, for example." He explained. It made more sense now. "Okay, so, how many fingers have I here?" He asked as he showed Patrick five fingers, three with his left hand and two with his right. Patrick gave him the good answer and the doctor took some notes, making every one in the room besides the nurse being curious. "Do you remember the accident?"

Patrick nodded slowly, swallowing his saliva.

"Can you tell me what happened then?"

"I was talking... Talking with fans... We took a picture and I just wanted to speak with them a little... I remember someone shouting, screamings and when I turned around, it hit me..." He explained slowly. "I don't... It's blurry. I know there were people... I remember someone touching me and talking to me but that's all..."

The doctor nodded, still writing.

"Okay, now I want you to tell me the name of your friend here and his date of birth." He said as he showed Brendon. Patrick looked at the doctor a few seconds before et turned his head towards the singer.

"Brendon Urie... And his birth date... It's on April twelfth... Nineteen eighty-seven."

The doctor looked at Brendon to get a confirmation and this one nodded.

"Great, Patrick, good work. It seems that everything is fine for now." The doctor finally said, looking at his file. Finally, he looked at Patrick again. "Are you feeling any pain right now?"

"Yeah, quite a bit..." Patrick replied, lying because it was hurting way more than a bit. The doctor asked him where it was being painful and Patrick swallowed again before talking. "My head... And when I breathe..." He said, showing his stomach. He looked at his left arm before he moved it a little. He winced. "And here, yeah..."

"Is that all?"

"Um... Yeah..." Patrick said, looking concerned. "Should I be suffering more?"

"No, I'm just checking. If you feel your injuries being itchy, you don't scratch, am I clear? Now, I'm going to inject you some morphine, you will be able to forget the pain." Patrick shook his head and the doctor stared at him. "Why not? It will not be a lot, you know."

"I don't want to, I'm fine." He finally said, staring right back at the doctor's eyes.

"Is everything okay?" Pete asked. The doctor stood up and went to write something on Patrick's file, putting it back on the end of the bed.

"Yes, it seems like your friend is ready to fully recover. I'll come back and check on him later. Meanwhile, someone will bring you some food. I need you to eat a little and to rest. If you need anything, you can use the telecommand beside your bed."

"I'm not hungry and I don't really want to sleep anymore..." Patrick replied, frustrated. He wasn't really because of the doctor though, more because he was tired as hell and it hurt so bad. But like always, he did like everything was fine.

"You really need to eat something." The doctor simply said before he left the room.

They all stayed silent a moment, staring at Patrick who looked at them too, before Andy talked.

"I wanna show my joy but it implied a hug so... I'm glad you're okay."

Patrick gave him a smile, this smile that was making his eyes smaller but as bright as always. He thought he definitely had to show them he was okay, even if it wasn't quite how he was.

"Well, if you wanna know, I'm glad I'm okay too."

There were low laughs before they all gathered again near Patrick.

"Man, we were so afraid. Don't you dare doing something like that again!" Pete told, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, 'cause I'm telling you, there is no way I look after him again while you're sleeping." Brendon said with a laugh. Patrick wanted to laugh too but when he began, he felt the pain being almost unbearable. He just slightly smile and look a Joe. This one stayed silent, looking at the little man on the hospital bed. Patrick wanted him to say something but it didn't look like he was going to do anything else than staring at him. Pete hit him softly with his elbow.

"What, you're not glad he's okay?"

Joe looked down, nodded and couldn't help but left the room. Everyone stared at him and Andy gave a smile at Patrick after almost a minute to reassure him.

"He went through a hard time too, I'm sure it's just that."

The singer kept staring at the now closed door as he could see Joe going further in the hallway before he disappeared from his sight. He felt bad but didn't say anything to the others as the nurse knocked at the door before opening it. She had a plate in her hands and she gave a smile at Patrick. It was the nurse from the day before, that say to the other members of the band that the surgery was almost done.

"So, I heard you were awake. How are you feeling?" She asked to Patrick. Brendon helped her with the tablet to push it above Patrick's body when she put the plate on it for him to have something to eat.

"I'm good. Thank you." Patrick replied with a little smile. He really didn't want to eat anything. He saw the nurse looking at him as she was putting a sheet on Patrick's lap for him for when he would be eating, in case he was overthrowing anything. She talked with a lower tone.

"The doctor asked me to take a blood sample because of... You know." She said as she was taking a needle from her scrub. Patrick nodded and let her do it on his right arm. "Now, you need to eat, at least a little."

Patrick gave her a smile as she left and they were finally alone for a moment. Patrick took his fork but didn't begin to eat. He was feeling dizzy but he just moved his fork against the plate. Andy and Pete were sitting on the couch as Brendon push the armchair near the bed to be closer.

"Come on, I'm gonna feed you."

Patrick looked at him, horrified.

"Surely not, there is no way." He said. He didn't even want to imagine this. But he had no choice as Brendon took the fork from his weak hand. Pete was looking at the scene, smiling a little and Andy was on his phone, trying to have Joe texting back. The bassist knew Patrick's mind was working as hard as it could as he was being fed by Brendon because of Joe disappearance but he wanted him to feel good at that moment.

"So, you will have a scar, right? You will finally look like a man!"

"Shut up..." Said Patrick with a little smile, slightly amused.

Again, Pete took his phone to film Brendon feeding him to post on his instagram.

"Come on Patrick, say hello to the fans." Pete said as Brendon looked at the camera. This one waved to the phone before he took food with the fork to "drive it into the garage" as he said to Patrick. This one, visibly really tired, looked an instant to Brendon and to the camera before he smiled a little, saying "hello... world" before he giggled and ate the food on the fork. He then looked at Pete with his bright eyes and smiled a little, looking back at the camera to wave with his right hand.

"Awake and being taken care of by a professional doctor" was the legend of the video. The fans reacted immediately, glad their favourite singer was fine and amused to see Brendon feeding him this way.

 

* * *

 

  
It was probably three in the morning. Pete was on the couch, his head on Brendon's legs and his own legs on Andy's. They were all asleep except for Patrick. He kept the bed raised to be more sitting than lying and his head was against the pillow, looking through the window. It was dark and there were lights to light the city. It was reflecting on the window but Patrick kept staring, totally drowning in his own thoughts. He wasn't smiling anymore, he wasn't really caring about the pain even if he was still feeling it slowly burning his body. He was just thinking. He was just sad. He was just realizing he almost died. He was just slowly remembering the sensations when he fell unconscious. He was feeling good. He didn't have scars anymore, his old memories didn't make his heart bleed anymore. And he thought that he could finally see them again. It wasn't something he wanted to talk about to anyone, they would think he just imagined that or it was because of the anesthesia, something like that. He wasn't even sure it was real either but he knew it was a bad thing. He couldn't stay focus on that because if he kept thinking this way, he knew he would have a depression again, like thirteen years ago. He looked down, didn't hear the door being opened as the doctor entered. This one walked towards the bed to be near Patrick and noticed he wasn't asleep.

"You're not sleeping?" He asked, whispering. Patrick finally gave a look to the doctor. He blinked and stared at the window again. The doctor took Patrick's file to check on what the nurse could have put in it. He took a paper about the blood sample and came closer to Patrick. He read the paper in his head before he looked at the singer. "Are you preoccupied?"

Patrick looked down, biting his lower lip as he sighed. "It's not important." He finally said to the doctor. This one looked at him an instant before he looked at the paper again.

"You don't really look like a drug addict..." He finally said, looking back at Patrick. When people were suffering like him, they would even abused a little of their power of having morphine. The ones that refused painkillers like that were generally addicted at a point of their life. That's why he had to take blood from Patrick, to see if he had taken any drug lately but it didn't seem to reveal anything. He thought it was because it was a long time ago and that the singer was just afraid to suffer from a relapse. "My son is a big fan and talks a lot about all of you. He told me he was glad his favourite band was composed with guys like you, who never did drugs and all those things. So I didn't know."

"I'm not. And I never have been." Patrick replied, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence. He pursed his lips. The doctor tilted his head, waiting for him to continue. But he understood that talking to Patrick would not be that easy.

"Did something happened to you?"

The look Patrick gave him was already a good answer even if he didn't exactly know what we could have done to him. He seemed to have a immense pain inside even if he never let it appear. The doctor wondered if it had something to do with the scars he saw during the operation.

"How old were you?"

Again, Patrick looked through the window and shrugged. It was painful but he didn't say anything. The most important thing is that he met Joe thanks to that. That's why he wanted to forget what happened as much as he didn't want to.

"You should try to get some sleep." The doctor said before he turned around to leave the room. He saw Joe behind the door, looking at them without moving, eating calmly his chinese food with his chopsticks. He opened the door and let the guitarist entered before he closed it. Patrick looked at Joe, frowning a little as he turned his head to look again at the window on his right. Joe sat casually on the armchair on Patrick's left side, his feet against the beside bed table. He kept searching for chicken into his little box as he said nothing, like everything was normal. Patrick ended to look at him a few seconds before he stared at the door, looking at the empty hallway where the lights were reflecting on the floor. He really didn't like hospitals. He felt a shiver and bit his lower lip before he heard Joe whispering.

"Is it still hurting?"

"I'm good."

"Come on."

Patrick frowned again, looking at Joe.

"What do you want now?"

So yeah, basically, the nicest guy you could meet was angry. Joe could understand he was angry because he left but he also knew Patrick was totally aware of the reason. And still, he kept lying to Joe. They had a very special relationship and no one knew what made them act this way towards each other but they could see it sometimes. They also could see those two oblivious guys were in love with each other but it was something else. What linked them was way different, it was something strong that no one could destroy. The very first day they met, something just happened between them. It was probably love at first sight but it wasn't the only thing they cared of. They actually never talked about their feelings. And the way they were acting towards each other was sometimes weird. They could fight over something really stupid and they were totally serious about that, not talking to each other for hours. But at the end of the day, it was generally fixed. Pete already heard them fighting over something really stupid, like no one would ever fight over that but apparently, choosing a way to go somewhere over another was a very big deal for the two guitarists, back in Chicago. The bassist and the drummer came to a point they just saw them as two weirdos with unresolved issues between them. They never talked to each other about the fact the two idiots had feelings for each other but the both of them wondered if it wasn't a factor for their attitudes. It was just weird because they were very close, almost too close for just being friend. But they were not dating in secret, Andy and Pete knew that. So what was wrong with these guys? No one was able to tell because no one was there when they met. No one was there to help them but each other.

"No but really. You can tell me." Joe said to Patrick.

"I told you I'm fine, Joe!" Patrick whispered louder than before. He was trying to keep his voice down but it was difficult. Yet, Joe could hear that he was speaking dryly.

"Right." The younger said right away, in a way even more tough. "If I press my fingers on your stomach or your arm, you'll be fine? Right?"

"Be careful, Joe, I'm not playing this game with you."

"So what the hell are you doing?"

"And you? Leaving like that, not saying a word to anyone, not even being glad I'm okay?"

Joe stood up.

"The hell I'm not glad, if only you knew!"

It was kinda ridiculous that they had to whisper while they wanted to shout at each other.

"So what, now I have to tell you it's hurting like a bitch for you to be even more glad? Is that what you want? Okay Joe, you win. It hurt so bad I tried not to cry and moaned all day long. Happy?"

Joe closed his eyes, pursed his lips and put his food on the beside table. He turned around, walking towards the door. Brendon had his eyes wide opened since the doctor appearance but said nothing, listening carefully. He closed his eyes when Joe was almost in front of him, it was a better idea to act like he was still sleeping. He didn't really know if he had to fake waking up for them to stop and act normally but he felt like he just shouldn't. He never saw them like that, it was a first time for him. And to be honest, he was a bit curious since the discussion with the doctor before Joe entered.

"Joe. What is wrong with you? I don't understand you. You're here with the others, I wake up and you just leave, and now you're attacking me because I'm not telling that it hurts. Are you insane?"

Joe faced Patrick, frowning and crossing his arms.

"We all know each other since what? Like fifteen years? And you're not even capable to tell us you're not okay. Do you think I don't know it? You just don't want any drug in your body but Patrick, please, it happened so long ago, you're in a hospital, not a warehouse. And in the very name of fuck, Patrick, what the hell were you thinking not telling us anything?"

"It's not because I didn't say it's hurting me that-"

"You could have died. You could have just... Left me..."

Patrick didn't say anything more. He stopped to frown and looked at Joe, straightening up a little.

"You know what, I'm done with this conversation. I left because you lied, because you're not capable to trust us and you never will." Joe conclude dryly. He turned around and walked towards the door, opening it. "Just deal with it."


	4. I Would Have A Gold Medal For Sure, Running That Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares are sometimes memories.

All the two teenagers could hear were their heavy breathing and their quick footsteps as they were running through this cold and not really lighted hallway. It was very dark, actually, the few neon lights were weak and blinking but not enough to not reflects to some puddles of water on the ground. The walls and the floor were almost dark but more like a very dark grey and Patrick felt water being splashed on his pants as his feet hit another puddle. He looked down to the ground and in front of him again, seeing the other teenager a meter away, trying to kept running. He was seeing his back, his legs moving fast and his blue and very dirty tee-shirt moving because of his speed. He saw him pushing one of his hands against the wall to not fall while turning to his left. Patrick did almost the same as he, in a way, run into the wall with the right side of his body. But he didn't stop any second, he was just going too fast to turn properly. He kept running behind the boy with the short and curly hair. His lungs were burning and he thought he was about to throw them up at any moment. The other had probably the same problem, his breathing was even more loud than a minute ago but he kept running. They had to keep running. They didn't have any strenght left so they didn't know how they were doing it. They could hear the drops falling on the ground from the low ceiling and the light creating a noise everytime it went off for a second and Patrick almost could hear his heart beating so fast it could probably destroy his chest if it kept that rhythm. He wanted to swallow his saliva but his throat was way more dry than his mouth so he ended up coughing and the younger boy looked at him a second.

"Come on!" The boy's weak voice said to him as he kept running. Shit, Patrick should have been more concerned about sports lessons. It was difficult for the both of them but he knew they wouldn't stop even if they wanted to. The injuries on his ribs were making all of it difficult but he also knew the guy in front of him was suffering too. They just had to keep going. And as they turned to their right, they could see the end of the hallway. They went far enough but weren't they stuck in there? They stopped and leaned a second against the wall. But they didn't have that much time left, they were sure of it as they heard the sound of the heavy door they crossed a few minutes before resounding in the entire hallway. They looked at each other, their blue eyes connecting an instant as they looked around them. If they weren't finding a way, they were fucked, they would both die. Patrick looked up and saw a little ray of light from above and also drops running down the wall. He put a hand on his new friend's arm as he showed him his discovery, staying silent because of the loud footsteps they could hear. They looked at each other again and totally knew what they had to do. Patrick prepared his hands, letting the sixteen year old boy putting his barefoot on them and he lift him up with his weak arms. The boy started digging and it was, like they thought, clay. It fell enough for them to finally go in the passage and the boy press his dirty hands on the edge like he could, Patrick helping him. The boy disappeared from Patrick's sight and all he could feel was cold water falling against him by the hole digged by the boy. His heartbeat increased but he suddenly saw the boy's dirty hand. He took it and helped himself by putting his feet against the wall, trying to climb up. He succeed in two attempts and passed under the fenced, being careful to not hurt himself because of it. 

He was almost happy to be immediatly soaked with the rain. It was the night but the streetlights were giving them enough light. They tried to walk as fast as they could to escape this place. They went on the road to cross it and go ask for help into one of those houses. But suddenly, Patrick was alone on the sidewalk and was observing the other guy, now bigger and tattooed, crossing the road by himself.

"Joe!" He screamed as a car came rapidly in his direction.

 

Patrick sat up with a start, his breathing was heavy and he felt sweat running down his temples. Everyone in his hospital bedroom was looking at him. Even Joe, sitting again in the armchair. Well, he was already looking at him before he woke up, actually, but still, he came back. Patrick's fingers were tightening his sheets so hard they were white as he tried to breath normally. He blinked a few times and looked at Andy when this one asked him if he was okay. It took him a moment before he nodded, leaning slowly against his pillow, looking at the white ceiling.


	5. I Swear I'm Trying To Let It Go But It Always Hits Me Again In The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's funny how much the plot of my story changed after the two first chapters. But I like the way it's taking.   
> Anyway, thanks for the kudos and the comments. :D

When Pete and Andy asked him about his nightmare, Patrick lied. It wasn't really something he liked to do but he felt like he had to. Even if he wasn't doing anything, being in the hospital was very stressful for Patrick. Not only because there were those problems with Joe but because of the memories. Those nightmares weren't just nonsense and he was sure Joe wasn't sleeping well either, he had the chance to observe him this night. Patrick was trying to stay awake like he could and saw the way he slept in the armchair, saw him moving and heard him whispering in his sleep. He knew it was hard for him to be here as well and even if they weren't talking that much since a few days, his friend never left his side again after all that happened. Pete had a family and Brendon a wife, they had to come back to them sometimes but Pete tried to come everytime he had some time to do it and Brendon came a few times too. Andy was there more than the two others but he had his things to do too. But Joe was just always there for his friend. After all, he was like him, without anyone else than the band. Joe woke up with a start and Patrick was still staring at him. They looked at each other during a moment before Joe straightened, feeling his cheeks becoming warm. He cleared his throat. There was no one else in the room but the two of them and it was Patrick's voice that broke the silence.

"I thought you didn't have nightmares anymore..." Patrick whispered, not knowing why he wasn't talking normally. Probably because it was a too big secret for them to be too loud for a second.

"Well, you would know if you were sleeping with me more often."

Okay, so _that_ came out wrong. They looked at each other for almost a minute before Joe took one of the armchair's pillow, throwing it to Patrick. 

"It's totally your fault."

"Come on, don't attack a weak and little man."

Joe laughed as he sat in a better position, bringing his legs against his body and passing his arms around them.

"Yeah, so fucking weak." Joe smiled as he tilted his head. Patrick cringed and shook his head a little.

There was another silent moment which they took to look at each other. It was always like that. They were fighting totally seriously over nothing important and after a little amount of time, they were laughing together again. Patrick looked down. They tend to avoid talking about about what they have been through but the singer had this feeling maybe they had to. Because they never really did and sometimes he felt like it wasn't real. But the burn on his shoulder blade was real and Joe's too. The scars on his ribs were there for a reason too.

"Do you... I mean, like... Think about it, sometimes?" Patrick finally asked, looking at Joe from the corner of his eyes. Joe seemed lost in his thoughts during a second before he sighed.

"Yeah. Quite too much, actually. Why?" He seemed more serene than Patrick though. It was weird when you know that Joe was the younger one but sometimes, when it was only the two of them, he looked like he was taking care of Patrick as an older presence. He was the one who helped Patrick, not the contrary. But when something was making them think about what happened, they would almost automatically fight and Joe wouldn't be... Joe. Like he was absent and it made him say things or do things he would not do if he was totally himself.

"I don't know... I feel like... I need to talk about it but like... With you, not with the psychologist we saw..."

"Why would you talk about it?"

Patrick looked down again.

"Never mind." He mumbled.

Joe stared at him a moment before he let his feet on the floor, leaning a little towards Patrick. He let his arms resting on the mat, his fingers touching Patrick's cover. He didn't mean to sound aggressive or something like that, he was just tensed when it came to the subject.

"Come on. I'm sorry. We can talk..." He said. He finally met Patrick eyes. "I think I'm ready too."

"I'm not sure you are... I don't want it to be like three days ago..." Patrick gritted his teeth before he looked at the door. His left hand, injured, made its way towards Joe's right hand to slowly take his fingers between his. Joe was still staring at him and whispered, choosing to talk anyway.

"Do you think we should have told the guys about that?" Joe asked.

"I don't know. I feel like... I don't want them to change the way they see us, you know... You already knew Pete when it happened... Didn't he noticed anything?"

Joe shrugged.

"I didn't see him during a while after that. Actually... I saw nobody but you during a while. I didn't want you to be alone. And I didn't really want to be alone or with someone else." He replied, letting Patrick touching his fingers, almost playing with them, as he was wondering if his hand wasn't hurting anymore or if he was still faking it. Joe sadly smiled in remembrance of the time after the events they had to face. "You remember? I came to your hospital room every night..."

Patrick slowly closed his eyes, still with Joe's hand in his, he softly pressed it.

"Yeah, I remember like the nurse always had to escort you to your own room the very next morning." Patrick said with a little laugh.

"But still, she knew I would do it every night and she only came in the morning." She was letting him go near Patrick to sleep in his bedroom. The doctors and the nurses were really nice with them at that time, probably because they knew it was really traumatising and they were still very young. They took great care of them. Patrick swallowed his saliva, his free hand ruffling his own hair.

"I don't like this place, Joe, I wanna go..."

"I know, I don't like to know you're in here either but you still have to stay here, Patrick, you can't leave. And look, I'm here, isn't that something that makes it better?" Joe said with hope. He saw Patrick slightly smile at him as he nodded.

"Yeah. I think I would go insane if you weren't."

"Come on, move." Joe finally said. Patrick understood and without letting Joe having his hand back, he slowly moved on the bed to let some space on his left. Joe stood up and firstly sat before he laid down next to Patrick. They were both looking at the ceiling, their hands joined between them.

 

"I'm sorry..." The singer said after a few minutes. Joe slowly turned his head towards Patrick's.

"Why?"

Patrick looked at him too. They were close and just kept staring at each other before he replied.

"Everything. I'm a burden since we met."

"You're not, Patrick..." Joe said. Patrick closed his eyes and sighed.

"Of course I am, I'm always a burden... Even now, I-"

"You are not. Patrick. You listen to me." Joe was articulating more than before, kinda annoyed by his friend's self-esteem. "You are not and you never have been. Yeah, we met in a terrible way and I helped you, so what? Does it makes me worthier? I didn't do that alone. We planned it during three fucking days in hell, Patrick. Together. Without you, I wouldn't have been able to do it. We were in there together." Patrick still had his eyes closed, he decided he wouldn't let his tears run down his cheeks. Not this time. He was tired of crying when he had a bad dream, when he was thinking about it too much. He was tired to simply still think about all of that. Damn, he was a big man, not a locked teenager anymore. Not an afraid little boy in his uncle's house. He was a grown up, so why would he still be so sensible? He opened his red eyes and thanked the night in his head, there wasn't enough light for Joe to see that. Unfortunately for him, he could hear Patrick's shaking voice.

"But I-" The singer stopped. He straightened a little, let go of Joe's hand and buried his face against his fingers, his elbows resting against his knees. He took long breaths before talking and Joe sat too. "Why can't I be as strong as you are?" Patrick asked. He felt Joe's fingers softly touch his neck. The older one closed his eyes, still hidding behind his hands, a shiver running down his back.

"What are you talking about... I'm just better than I thought when it comes to hide my weaknesses..." Joe whispered. Patrick could feel the soft movement of his fingers slowly going down his neck to his hospital gown. He felt them unleashing the knot of the ugly dress. Patrick slowly raised his head but didn't do anything to stop him. Joe used his hands to slowly remove the fabric from Patrick's shoulders. He could feel his friend's body shaking a little because of the air against his skin but he didn't stop his movements. Joe's warm hands against his arms made Patrick's heart skip a beat. But he totally stopped breathing when he felt his fingers going towards his left shoulder blade. Yes, Joe was really soft but Patrick didn't expect something like that. Joe's fingers were going along Patrick's arm, caressing his left shoulder and slowly going down. Patrick held a sob when he felt Joe's touching the burn on his skin. It had been seared fifteen years before and the mark would never leave him. The color of the injury was a soft contrast with his very pale skin. The Mercury's symbol would be forever on his skin and it was the same for Joe. The burning iron bar did not only damaged their skin. It damaged them in the most deep form it could possibly did it.

"Breathe, Patrick..." Joe whispered as he kept softly moving his fingers against his skin. The singer swallowed and looked down, desperate. He took a long breath and Joe gently let his forehead rest on Patrick's shoulder, closing his eyes. "You just need to accept what happened..."

"Did you?" Patrick finally asked. Joe moved a little and Patrick could feel his sad smile against his skin.

"I thought I did."

"Why would I do if you're not-"

"Because you're kinda my model when it comes to internal strength... Even if you seem to think I'm stronger... That's so not the case..."

Patrick pursed his lips and calmly put his hand on Joe's head. He slowly moved his fingers in Joe's soft and now not too long hair.

"I'm not sure I can do that... I just can't..."

Joe finally moved his fingers from Patrick's injury. He wanted to pass his arms around the almost nude chest of the man he was in love with but he couldn't, the bandage told him it wasn't quite a good idea. Instead, he gently let his hand rest on Patrick's hip, pressing his fingers against it to make him be closer to his own body.

"Let's do it together, then."

Patrick sighed. "Well, let's face it, we're pretty shitty without each other..."

They stayed silent after that but they couldn't help having a little smile.

So yeah. They had a weird but strong link.

They knew they wouldn't act like this the next day and that's why they stayed against each other all night long. At this point, they probably weren't that oblivious anymore.   
But it wouldn't be a real love story if they weren't completly stupid and didn't know how to act about their feelings

 


	6. Running Away Is The Worst But Best Thing I Ever Did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was thinking going back and forth into Patrick's past and present chapter after chapter wouldn't be a bad idea.

"And I hope you will not fail like last week or you don't see that guitar of yours ever again." Patrick's uncle said as he was holding him by the collar of his tee-shirt. The teenager swallowed and nodded quickly, hoping he would just let him go this time. The man did and in the following second, Patrick had left the house, his backpack on his back. At least, this time, he studied his math test so he should be able to avoid another punishment. The belt let another mark on his ribs three days before when he had his results for the last week test. It was still hurting everytime Patrick passed his fingers softly on it.

He was walking on the sidewalk, his hands deep in his pockets and looking down. He had to reajust his glasses on his nose as they were slowly going down his skin and he knew the man wouldn't just take away his guitar if he failed. He would destroy it and burn it in front of him. But this instrument was all he really had for himself, he bought it when they forgot his birthday. He turned sixteen alone and bought it with the money he was saving up since a year. Music was presumably the only thing that was making his heart beat faster, that was making him feel a whole bunch of different emotions.

He sighed as he saw his school and kept his head down to go in.

* * *

 

"See, I didn't fail..." Patrick almost whispered a few days after, waiting for the couple to at least say something to him as they were looking at his maths results. He saw his uncle looking right at him, his head still directed towards the sheet of paper.

"But you could have done better." He said in a very dry way as he stood up. Automatically, Patrick stepped back, feeling his chin almost shaking. There was this warm weight inside his stomach and the heat of it was fast to go through his whole body. "Don't you dare-" Patrick's uncle couldn't finish his sentence when the young boy moved, ready to leave in the fastest the room way possible. The man ran around the table as soon as Patrick started to run. He succeed to grab Patrick's shirt during a second but the boy left the room too fast for him to stop him. They left the kitchen and ran in the hallway. Patrick ran through the corridor and started to run up the staircase that formed the corner on his left. Of course, it made him go slower and his uncle had more endurance than him. He felt his hands against his back as he fell on the two last steps he had to climb. He moaned and tried to move, turning around for the stairs to be against his back. He struggled with his uncle, feeling himself slide against the steps. He was afraid but tried and pushed the big man. This one let go and Patrick used his hands and feet to climb up the stairs, still sitting on it. He saw the fall of his uncle on the stairs and heard his aunt screaming. Patrick was shaking, his heart was beating so fast, he wanted to disappear. The wife and he stared at the body during a few seconds before his uncle started to slightly move. It seemed difficult and he was hurt. 

"You could have killed him, you bastard !" His aunt shouted, trying to help her husband to stand on his feet again. Without more thoughts about it, Patrick stood up and ran into his bedroom, locking himself in. He looked at the door, stepping back very slowly. He was afraid to hear someone approach but it never happened.

It was during this night that he decided to leave. He couldn't take it anymore, that was it. He didn't know where he could go, but what he knew was that he couldn't stay there any longer. He took his backpack, put some clothes in it, took his guitar and put it all near the window. He didn't showed up in the house during that evening, he stayed near his luggages, sitting under the window, against the wall. The time was slowly passing and he only moved in the middle of the night. He took his bags and left his room. He was used to be silent. He wouldn't be so good to sneak out if the couple was a couple of normal people and that they were feeding him enough. He wouldn't have to go take some things to eat almost every single night when he was daring to do it. That's what he did but this time, he didn't go eat in his bedroom. He put food on his bag and left by the front door.

 

Later that night, a black van stopped while he was walking on the sidewalk but it wasn't the first time he was seeing it. It was often in front of his school, it was Megan's dad, a girl in his classroom. He could probably consider her as a friend, they were talking in science class since they were sitting next to each other. So when he stopped, Patrick glanced at the van and recognized the man. He stopped as well and the driver opened his window, frowning.

"Aren't you in my daughter's class?" He asked. Patrick didn't say anything, he just nodded and looked around him.

"Can I know why you're walking with your belongings outside at almost two am?"

Patrick shrugged. He never really appreciate the dark so it was making him uncomfortable. He wasn't very social either way, even if he was very kind with others.

"Does it have something to do with your uncle?"

Patrick's heart skipped a beat. "Wh-What?"

The man smiled and opened his door. He left the car and walked towards Patrick. He was so much taller than him. He had dark hair and brown eyes, wearing jeans and a black pullover.

"Well, I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't talk about that but Megan talked to me... She said she thought their were things going on at your place when she saw bruises on your wrists." Patrick swallowed his saliva with difficulty and looked down. "And since you have your bags and all... Did you run away, son?" He asked kindly, slightly smiling at the man. Patrick raised his eyes to look at him and bit his bottom lip. He finally slowly nodded. "And where are you going like that?"

And again, Patrick shrugged.

"Come on, I'm not gonna let you in the street like that. You can sleep over and we will see what to do tomorrow. Does it seems okay to you?"

Patrick thought it was the better solution. After all, Megan would be there and the next morning, they would handle the situation better than he would have done by being in the street.

"I-I guess it's okay... I'm sorry..."

The man gave him another smile to say it wasn't a big deal and helped Patrick to put his guitar and his bag in the van. They both went in just after. Patrick put his belt on and was feeling more comfortable in the warm car with someone he probably could trust.

 

The man was driving since a few minutes before he glanced at Patrick.

"So, do you have any marks?"

Patrick raised an eyebrow as he looked to the man from the corner of his eyes, feeling suddenly uneasy.

"I mean, if I have to contact social services, they need proof of abuse."

Still, if it was just for that, Patrick thought he could have ask in another way. The teenager looked down and slightly nodded, feeling ashamed. The man sighed and mumbled something about how much of an atrocity it was for a family to do things like that to a kid. He was holding his wheel with his right hand, the other searching something in a space directly in the door.

"Are you interested in astronomy?" He asked after a minute.

"I... I find it interesting... I guess... I mean, planets are cool." Patrick replied then thought: Fuck that, it's the dumbest shit I could have say in my entire life. "Planets are cool." What a way to look interesting, Patrick."

"Yeah, they are kinda cool." His friend's father laughed. "What is your favourite one?"

Patrick took his chances to reply more wisely.

"Probably Uranus. You know, named after the sky's god and all. Like, I mean, the Uranian system is unique in the Solar system. I think I like it because it's different." He finally said.

"I see, you like what's different. Well, I'm more of a classic man so I'd say Mercury, for me. It's the little one, you know. It's the one that can blend in with his surroundings." Patrick found that sentence a little bit weird but wasn't this conversation? Because let's face it, what a conversation to have at two am. But Patrick prefered talking about something if it could help the man not to sleep while he was driving. You never know, maybe he was talking to stay awake. "While you were walking, did you take a moment to look at the moon? It's full, tonight." The man said.

Patrick shook his head before he tilted it to try and look at the moon. It wasn't even close to be half full. He frowned but before he could say anything, he felt something penetrating his neck.


	7. It Didn't Sound Like A Bad Idea When We Thought About It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and the comments guys. :D

"I hope to not see you again in this kind of condition." The doctor said to Patrick with a smile. The guy was finally ready to leave this place. He was happy and at the same time, almost annoyed he would return to his home. Joe surely wouldn't act like in this white room, he wouldn't come and just sleep next to him. It was reassuring the singer, it was like during those days of terror, when it was only them. But he smiled because even with those thoughts he was glad, this place was still way too stressful. "I'll come back in a few minutes, I have to prepare the paperwork but when it will be done, I'm going to change your bandage and give you what you need to do it yourself. Did the nurse explained to you how to do it?" Patrick nodded, looking at the doctor. His heart skipped a beat. He didn't know if he would be able to do it alone, it was still hurting when he was moving too much and pass the bandage around his body would be difficult. "Do you feel like you can do it? Since you're not taking any painkiller, it can hurt and I don't want you to force yourself. You can probably ask one of your friends here to do it." Patrick still didn't say anything. He didn't want to say he needed help. He didn't want anyone to see his scars. It just wasn't possible.

"I'm gonna get the car and wait outside for when you guys are coming." Pete said with a big smile as he stood up. He left the room when his phone rang. He walked faster to not bother anyone in the hospital even if he missed the call. He took his phone from his pocket when he was outside to see a missed call from Brendon. He immediately called back, taking his keys, walking in the parking. "What's up?" He asked when Brendon picked up the phone.

"Yo man, I need to talk to you. Remember when Joe left the hospital when Pattycake woke up?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, and you buddy? Patrick? Oh, he's leaving the hospital today, that's great isn't it? I think he's still hurt but definitely better." Pete said with a smile.

"Come. On. Man." He articulated. "I'm talking serious business right now." Brendon said, rolling his eyes. He heard Pete laughing and repeated a "come on".

"Ok, yeah I remember, why?"

"You know that he came back that night and all? I mean, we were sleeping and stuff but I was awake and I heard so much things man, it's haunting me since then, I need to talk about it."

"Brendon. You actually know I don't understand anything, right?" Pete said seriously, sitting behind the wheel.

"Man, please, use your brain, it's there for something you know?" Brendon sighed. Pete smiled again, he was a real phenomenon.

"Come on, you can at least be clear when you're explaining something. I know Joe came back, he almost didn't left since the day after."

"He came back during the night first man, they like fought and stuff, so they're okay now?"

"They fought? Yeah, right, I don't think so." Pete replied with a laughed. He was of course thinking about how he saw the two guys in the same bed the next morning of their confessions' night. Like they would have fight about something before. He thought it wasn't possible.

"I'm serious. And with what the doctor said before Joe came in the room, I'm like super tensed, I think they hide something from us guys, for like a super long time." This time, Pete frowned.

"You're sure you-"

"I didn't dream about it ! Why don't you believe me, I can be serious sometimes." Brendon finally said. Pete took a second to think before he sighed.

"Okay, go on. I'm listening but I don't have that much time, the guys will be in the car soon." He said, parking in front of the hospital. "And try to be clear okay, I want to hear everything in order." The bassist knew Brendon could be so excited to say things that he wouldn't be understood by anyone. Because yeah, even if he was freaking out about all of this, the singer was way more excited about the possibility of inspecting some kind of mystery.

"Okay but you shut up and you listen." He then replied with a smile. It was finally the story time. "So, it was like you know, because of the blood sample this nurse took when she gave Pattycake some food. The doctor came back in the middle of the night to look at his file and all. He woke me up when he entered, actually. And like Pattycake wasn't sleeping and they talked but that was so weird man. They talked about drug addiction and all."

"Drug addiction?" Pete repeated, straightening up a little in his seat.

"Let me-!" Brendon began, being impatient. Pete sighed again and tried to listen carefully.

"To not wake us up, they were whispering so I didn't heard everything. He said something like Patrick didn't look like a drug addict and I wondered if it was because he said no to the morphine. Because of something like that you know. I didn't really heard the rest of the conversation." He finally said. He wasn't even about to conclude but that was a first thing he wanted to talk about and he knew Pete needed to talk a little, he couldn't handle everything he had to say in a row. The bassist looked at the hospital, always trying to see if Patrick was coming with Joe and Andy but his bandage had to be changed and there was probably some paperwork to do.

"But... Brendon, Patrick isn't a drug addict. I mean, we would know it. And I don't think he would have be on drug at any moment 'cause... I mean, you know him."

"Yeah, I do know him man, but that was so fuckin' weird. He asked if something happened to him but I didn't hear Patrick saying anything. So maybe, you know, something did happen to him."

Pete stayed silent, he didn't know what to say. Did Patrick take drugs at a point of his life? He knew him since the singer was seventeen, he couldn't imagine something like that. Did he take some when the band was in a time off? But if something actually happened... Did someone drugged him? He didn't want to imagine what could have been done to his best friend if it was the point.

"Anyway, the guy left the room and then there was Joe." Brendon continued. "Well, I actually thought it was weird. But then they started arguing and all that stuff and I really started to freak out you know. I didn't know if I had to do like I just woke up or somethin' because of the noise for them to stop and all..."

"Man, Joe and Patrick are sometimes fighting over dumb stuff you know." Pete replied, not noticing he was talking way more lower than before. "Sometimes, it gets pretty serious but it's always fixed hours later, I don't think that's such a big deal."

"I think it was, Pete, I'm not saying two friends can't argue without it to be a serious issue but... Really, I think it was."

Pete glanced at the hospital again and sighed. "Okay, tell me about it. I'm listening." It was already so weird, the bassist wasn't sure he wanted to know more stuff he didn't really want to hear about. And at the same time, the curiosity was now killing him.

"Like, you know, Joe just wanted to know if Patrick was hurt because of the injuries, since he didn't take the morphine. But it was like such a big deal for him to even say it was hurting, like... He literally couldn't say it, like it would be a bad thing. He seemed a little bit aggressive towards Joe. But it's Pattycake... He can't be aggressive unless it's serious..." Brendon said with a little voice. He didn't enjoy hearing Patrick's talking like he did that night. His tone was so dry when he said to Joe he didn't want to play like that, like he could snapped and hit him if the guy kept wanting to know, instisting like he was doing it. "And Joe wanted to leave again but Patrick kept talking. I heard more since he had to... Well, whisper louder for him to hear without waking us up. And... That's when I got pretty scared. Joe was like saying it was nonsense for him to not say anything about his pain to you guys, that he just couldn't trust you apparently or still didn't want any painkiller. That if it was nonsense it was because of what happened, that it was a long time ago and that he was in a hospital now, not a warehouse. I mean, come on Pete, how could I not freak out? I literally stopped breathing! And he said things about the fact Patrick could have left him with the accident and I think the fact Patrick wasn't saying he was hurt was like... Painful 'cause they seem to know things you guys don't know. I mean, come on, something clearly happened. He was really upset, he just left."

Pete was silent. After a minute, Brendon had to call his name, not even sure he was still on the phone. He talked a lot but he had to share what he heard, it was difficult to keep all of these information for himself. Pete cover his forehead with his hand, his elbow resting against the car's door. "I-I... Let me think, Brendon... It's just... It's..."

"Pretty fucked up, yeah, I know man. They're really hiding something. And maybe it's their business and all, maybe it's too much of a secret for them to talk about it. But you know what? I don't think it's doing any good for any of them."

Pete sighed one more time and looked at the hospital. Damn, they were so close to the car he became white as he startled.

"I gotta go, Brendon, I'm texting you when we're at Patrick's house." He said, clearing his throat when the guys opened the car's door. The bassist put his phone back in his pocket and smiled to Patrick as Andy helped him sitting in the passenger seat. He looked in the car's mirror, seeing Joe sitting behind him after he put Patrick's bag in the trunk. Pete humidified his lips as his heart was still beating pretty fast. He looked at Patrick, waiting for Andy to sit next to Joe. "So... You're good? We're ready to go?" He finally asked to Patrick. This one nodded with a smile and Pete swallowed his saliva before he started to drive. They were pretty silent during the ride, mostly because Andy never talked too much and was rarely beginning a conversation, because Patrick fell asleep and since Pete was so overwhelmed by the thoughts of what he just heard that he couldn't find something to say to Joe. At the same time, he was pretty sure this one wasn't really in the mood to talk, staring sometimes at Patrick and sometimes at the city.

 

Sitting in Patrick's couch, Pete was typing on his phone to talk to Brendon. "Man, I don't know what to do. If they don't want to talk about that, I can't force them." And he really didn't want to try with Joe. Well, thinking about it and what Brendon said, he wasn't sure he wanted to try either with Patrick. He didn't want the singer to snap at him, it could be very serious. He looked at his phone when he received a response from Brendon.

"But maybe you can provoke it."

Pete blinked a few times. Man, Brendon really wanted him to risk it all. "Come on, think about it. I don't want to create any tension in the band, that could be bad."  
Pete looked at Andy when this one called his name. He blinked again and reacted, finally saying goodbye to his friend. He raised his eyebrows when he couldn't see Joe anymore. There wasn't his jacket either.

"He left a few minutes ago." Andy said. "He said he had things to do."

Pete looked at his friend. "But I didn't... God, I'm sorry, I'm not really focused today."

"I don't think he noticed either way." The drummer said with a smile. Actually, Joe was probably as focused as Pete was, really not focused at all. He walked Patrick to the bathroom but he left just after, waving at the guys sitting on the couch. Pete looked at his phone when it rang again before he glanced at Andy again.

"Okay um... Be careful on your way home, 'kay?" 

Andy nodded with a little smile before he left. Pete glanced towards the hallway where the stairs were. "Provoke it..." he thought. He opened the new text he received from Brendon a minute before.

"Well, if there weren't a secret, there wouldn't be any risk of tension." The singer had text to him. Pete sighed. If Brendon was so intistant, it's because he really wanted to know. And to be honest, Pete wanted to know everything really bad, he just couldn't tell himself the truth. And the truth was that he wanted to be intrusive in his best friend's life.

"I'm gonna try but I don't promise anything." He replied. He stood up and walked in the hallway of the big house. His phone rang again and he read "If he doesn't want to talk to you before a few years after you begin, you can abort the mission. :)"

He rolled his eyes and smiled a little before he climbed up the stairs. He walked towards the bathroom and heard the sound of the water. He waited in front of the door, he already knew how he would talk to him. When the shower stopped, he still feel his anxiety raising up and waited a minute before knocking against the door. It took a while before he heard a hesitant "yeah?" and he cleared his throat.

"Um... The guys took off and I was wondering if you needed help? I mean, the doctor said that maybe you would need it?"

"I'm okay , Pete, but thank you..." Patrick said. He wasn't really convincing his friend and this one kept waiting.

"So, you're feeling better?" He said, trying at least to talk a little with his friend. During the time he was in the hospital, he saw he looked anxious and he was really quiet.

"Shit..." Patrick said before he sighed loudly enough for Pete to hear it and making him raise an eyebrow. After that, he talked to the bassist. "Yeah, better. Not like before the accident though."

"Well, it might take a while-" Interrupted by a "fucking... You bastard..." he smiled a little, turning towards the door. "But I'm sure everything will be fine soon."

This time, he didn't have any answer but he knew what was probably happening to make his friend talking like that. Finally, the door opened on a Patrik almost shirtless. Almost because even if he had his pants, he was using his towel to hide the top of his body. He sighed, looking down.

"Okay. I don't want to try all afternoon and end by asking someone anyway so yeah, I need help."

He stepped back a little to let Pete enter but kept staring everywhere but at his friend. The guy penetrated in the bathroom, looking around ans directly going towards the bandages. They were near the bath, and he sat on the large edge of this one.

"Come on man, your personal nurse is here." He said, smiling. But Patrick wasn't, he just seemed uneasy. Now he was thinking about it, he probably saw his friend shirtless once by accident, a few years back and it was as long as a second, Patrick shutting the door immediately. He was never changing with them, maybe he really didn't like to appear even almost naked in front of them. "Okay, I'm gonna be serious." Pete promised, thinking it would make him at ease. But it didn't. Patrick was focused on moving. He didn't want Pete to see his shoulder blade because thanks to the mirror behind him. He finally looked at his friend and didn't remove the towel.

"Man... I need you to move that if you want me to put the bandage on you..." Pete said. "If it's because of the scar, it's okay, you know... I mean, I'm not gonna be disgusted or something like that. You know me, right?"

Yeah, Patrick knew him. And he knew he wouldn't be able to kept his surprise for himself.

"No, it's okay, I'm sorry, I'm gonna do it by myself..." Patrick said, looking down again. Pete stood up, shaking his head.

"Patrick, you need to let things go. I'm just gonna help you with the bandage and I'll leave you alone if you want me to. It's just a scar, you were hit by a car and you had surgery, man. And I'm sure the surgeon did a good job." He concluded. Patrick raised his eyes to finally lock them in Pete's and he let the towel falling on the floor, his arms hanging along his body. He just gave up. Pete gave him a smile to encourage his friend, looked where he was sitting and raised his eyes towards Patrick's torso. Well. He wasn't expecting that. Besides the recent injury the surgeon operated on, there were a whole bunch of other marks on his left ribs. Long and thin marks, some of those wounds were almost red and the others were almost as whiter than Patrick's pale skin. The white ones were less apparent but the others were emerging from the skin. And in the end, it wasn't really good looking. Pete stared during a few seconds, his eyebrows raised before he slowly raised his head to look at his friend.

"Patrick, wha-"

"You don't ask." He simply replied and Pete thought he sounded desperate. He kept looking at him a few seconds, and he would not forget Patrick's eyes at this precise moment. His best friend seemed sad. But not because he just learned a bad news or something, he had been sad since a long time, inside. And today, he was to tired of this battle to keep fighting. Pete looked away a moment, his head down in front of Patrick's chest. He was focused on the shower behind his best friend, thinking. And he didn't ask right away. Well, he never really did.

"Okay. I'm not asking. But you know-"

"If I wanted to talk about that, I would already have done it."

Patrick's tone seemed a little bit dry and the bassist finally took the bandage and he looked at the more recent scar, still thinking. Those others injuries were old, it clearly wasn't the best looking thing he had seen in his life but it kind of healed a long time ago. In a way, he knew it was a bigger issue than the accident for his friend. Even though, he couldn't figure how he got those. He thought it looked like he had been whipped but what would he have done to be beat this way? Was it linked to the drug story? The thing was that Patrick always had been very discreet about his life. They knew he lost his parents but he never told he lived with his uncle and his aunt, he just wanted to forget about all of that.

The singer felt the bandage against his skin, Pete being careful to not hurt him. Patrick was relieved when he saw his friend wasn't about to stand up and go behind him to make things easier, he kept sitting in front of him, silent. And he knew he was probably thinking about his scars, but that was okay. He knew he wouldn't talk about it more than he did. Instead, Pete started to talk about something else. It wasn't worse than his scars but it wasn't better though.

"So. No painkillers, you thug, huh?" He said with a little laugh, trying to clear the air. He kept taking care of his friend, glancing at him. He could see a little smile on Patrick's face, he was clearly uneasy but the way Pete talked amused him.

"Well, what did you think? I'm tough."

"Yeah, so tough." Pete laughed again.

"Morphine's not really my style."

"Said the man hit by a car. You just wanted to impress Joe, didn't you?"

Patrick almost choked with his own saliva and he felt his cheeks becoming really red.

"Wh-What? Come on, don't say things like that!"

"Well, aren't you guys-"

"No!" Patrick said, feeling his cheeks becoming warmer as time was passing. Pete laughed again and looked at Patrick.

"But you...?" He began with his very own smile. Patrick couldn't help but smirk, his heart beating pretty fast as he looked down. "I knew it!"

"Come on, it's not what you think!" Patrick said, moving in a odd way towards his shirt. It was because he didn't want Pete to see his back but it wasn't really natural. Pete figured there was something, but he thought it was the scars so he didn't say anything.

"I'm not blind, Patrick. And you won't even tell your best friend. It's hurting my feelings."

"What feelings?" Patrick said with amusement as he put his shirt on, feeling directly more at ease as he was closing the buttons. Pete press a hand against his chest, trying to look sad. "Dude." Patrick said.

"You heartless and rude little man!"

"I'm not that small." Patrick said as he frowned.

"Okay, you heartless and rude gay man."

"Come on, I don't feel anything for Joe." Patrick said again, his cheeks again against him as he said that sentence. He turned around to leave this room, uneasy.

"Except love." Pete said, still very amused.

"Shut the fuck up, Peter." His friend replied, considering they could stop talking about that now. But Pete didn't have the same opinion. Plus, he wanted to use that to talk more about his past.

"Come on, you guys already act like a couple." And he wasn't referring about what he saw in the hospital. "Between the moments you are all kind with each other, there are those cute little fights about things absolutely stupid like that day you argued about the way we should use for our concert, you couldn't be okay with one of them and you didn't talk all evening before being closer than ever after. You weirdos." Pete laughed. But Patrick didn't, thinking about that day. It was a long time ago but still clear. Actually, if they fought, it was because they couldn't find an agreement about which way was the farest from the warehouse. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, going down the stairs.  
"We are not acting like a couple, we have nothing like a couple and I'm not in love with him." He repeated.

"So you sleep next to him because you guys are like those besties?" Pete said. He didn't mean to annoy his friend, he just found that fun. But Patrick froze and gritted his teeth. Without looking at Pete, he just replied, walking towards the kitchen.

"Why don't you just stop, Pete?" This one cringed but finally agreed, for Patrick's relief. "Thank god."

"I'm just joking around, man, even though you're in love with the guy." Pete said, more seriously than before. Patrick sighed and Pete was pretty sure he would snap at him without being really angry but the singer turned around, making him stop walking to not rush into his best friend.

"Is it that visible, Pete?"


	8. This Drug Gave Me A Bad Trip I Couldn't Get Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I woke up with more kudos today. Just to say again thank you for reading and liking my fiction, it's always a pleasure to see people enjoying it. Don't forget to comment and thank you again, it means a lot !

When the seventeen year old Patrick opened his eyes, there was this moment during which one he couldn't remember what happened. Like when you have a horrible day and that you wake up the next morning with this impression it was just all a dream, you're relief and then you remember everything was true. It was almost the same but here, it took a whole minute for Patrick to figure out where he was since he had been drugged, he didn't just fall asleep. And it clearly wasn't just a bad dream.

At the beginning, everything was all blurry when he opened his eyes and he couldn't figure why everything was dark. He blinked a few times, pressed his hands against the floor to try and get up but his head was spinning and hurting pretty bad. Every drop falling against the floor of this place was making a big echo in his head, he felt like it was about to explode. He passed his cold hand against his forehead and he could feel something warm and a cut as well.

"Fuck..." He mumbled as he tried to get up without success. He could sit though. It was freezing in there and he felt a shiver running down his naked back. He frowned. He was shirtless. Automatically, he put a hand against his injured skin to hide his scars like there would be someone to see them. He realized it was pointless a few seconds later but he just couldn't help it. His mouth and his throat were dry and he was slowly beginning to get use to the lack of light in there. He tried to get up again and he succeed with difficulty, almost falling as soon as he put his feet against the cold floor. He tried to listen if he was hearing anything else than the drops. Those ones were making so much noise it was weird. But he soon realized it wasn't making echoes only in his head, he was in a very big place. He tried to walk but ended by leaning against a humid wall. He took a long breath and tried to focus on what happened. He remembered some of the events, his day at school, his test results, his uncle. The fall in the stairs and himself running away. But what happened then? He press a hand against his head. Nobody would search for him, he would die there and he didn't know what his abductor would do to him during this time. He thought he eventually wouldn't be missed by anybody so that it wasn't that big of a deal. He didn't feel himself leaning more against the wall to let himself going down against it, slowly sitting. He passed his arms around his legs, those were against his chest. He thought that at least, he would leave this place. With luck, he would be with his parents soon. Because they were in heaven, right? Yeah, they were probably in heaven. They were good people. Just dead because of him. He didn't feel the hot tears against his cheeks neither his chin shaking when he thought about that. What an ironic fate he had. He killed his parents and then, he had been abducted and would suffer before dying alone. He thought he deserved that, after all. Maybe it was simply logic. But he could blame himself all he wanted, it wasn't his fault if his mother died when she gave birth to him. And it wasn't his fault if a drunk guy had a car accident with his father while this one was going to pick him up at school. Maybe it was because the two death happened with him being the reason of the actions conducted by his parents. Or maybe it was because, angry at him like always, his uncle said it was his fault if he had to take care of him, that if he wasn't on this planet, no one would have been hurt. His uncle's sister wouldn't have gave birth to a baby that killed her and his father wouldn't have been on the road this day.

His whole body was shaking now as he was crying and cold. His throat was burning and he wished it would be over soon. He startled when, a few minutes after, he heard noises. A big door being opened, two persons and some other things.

"Would you shut the fuck up?" A dry but loud voice asked. It was Patrick's abductor and he knew it. The man was maintaining a teenager, trying to pull him through the big room. Patrick could only see silhouettes thanks to the light of the big door, still opened. The young boy was trying to push the man away, he was probably crying but more insulting the man than something else. "I should have drugged you like the other, you bastard!" and it seemed the evocation of Patrick's presence surprised the teenager enough to let the man hit him over the head. He saw the silhouette falling on the ground and when he tried to get up, he saw the man hitting his ribs with his foot. The boy moaned and the man took his wrists to pull the boy's body. This one didn't give up, trying to stop him but he couldn't, he didn't have energy anymore, he was hurt and not as strong as the man. Patrick couldn't see them anymore as he heard noises closer to him. Metallic noises, to be precise. Were they in some sort of cage, or something? He tried to see something but it was still way too dark. Actually, the two persons weren't that far from him. Like actually a few steps away. He heard another noise and a moan and then nothing. He couldn't move, he didn't know if he could even breathe but he was pushing himself against the wall so much his back was actually hurting.

There were footsteps before the light went on. Patrick had to hide his eyes, it was hurting. When he removed his hand, he tried to look and blinked a few times. He saw enough to notice the man was walking towards them again and that they were really in a sort of big cage. The man didn't tied him up because he was sure he couldn't get away with those bars. Slowly, he could look for more than a few seconds and he glanced at the body on the ground. The boy was laying on it, his head against the floor, his blue tee-shirt a little bit dirty from his run away attempt. He heard the cell door being opened again and Patrick looked at the man. He felt his heart beating faster than before again and tried to step back a little. The man smiled at him and bent near the other boy. He saw his hands going towards his belt and take something. Was that a rope? The man tied up the second boy still on the floor and looked at Patrick.

"We will wait for our new friend to wake up before we begin."

Patrick tried to swallow the saliva he didn't have anymore and kept himself from coughing.

"You're not afraid, are you?" Asked the man as he walked slowly towards Patrick.

"Don't approach me..." This one said with a low and broken voice. He knew it wouldn't change anything but he was so afraid he couldn't help but ask. He heard a little laugh from the man who looked down at Patrick. He crossed his arms and bent a little towards the young boy, keeping a smirk on his face.

"Well, from what are you afraid? It seems you already know how it feels to be hit." The man said, pointing at Patrick's body with his chin. This one felt his cheeks becoming warmer as he knew he was talking about his old and recent scars. "You don't worry, I don't do this kind of things." He said almost softly as he was squatting in front of the teenager. "I do better." He finally laughed and Patrick looked down, trying to keep his sob inside. They heard a little moan from the other boy who was slowly waking up. The man turned his head in his direction and Patrick spoke, anxious.

"Why are you doing that?"

It took a while before the other man replied an annoyed "what kind of question is that?". And then he stood up, going towards the other boy. He put his hands against his shoulders, moving his body for him to sit against the wall. Patrick looked at him as the man was walking away. He whispered "Hey... Open your eyes... Please..." and he had to wait a few seconds before seeing the boy moving again. It took a while before he finally opened his eyes and looked around. Finally, their blue eyes met and they looked at each other during a moment.

"Your head..." The younger one whispered, seeing Patrick's injury. This one shook his head a little.

"I'm okay..." He replied. He was about to talk again but the teenager's eyes, marked by the abductor's fist, slowly went down on Patrick's body. This one put his hand in front of his scars, uneasy. He shook his head again when the boy looked at him again. "It's not from him... I don't know what he wants to do..." He sighed, looking away. The other stared at Patrick during a few seconds, wondering how he had those scars but mostly how they could get away.

"Your name?" He whispered. Patrick glanced at him, frowning.

"Huh?"

"What's your name?" The stranger repeated.

"Patrick..." He finally whispered. He looked at the boy, waiting for him to say his name too.

"Joseph... But call me Joe..." He said, almost laughing at himself. Like it was the time for introduction and like this Patrick, was it, wanted to know how to call him. He felt ridiculous but the two boys were interrupted anyway.

"Hey, you, the little one." The man said from where he was. they both turned their heads towards their abductor and stayed silent. "You come here."

Patrick used the wall to stand up, looking at the other boy again. He tried to walk towards the bars but his legs were painful and he still felt a little dizzy. He finally arrived at the cell's door and glanced at the big front door.

"Don't you even think about it." The man said, slowly uncovering his belt where a gun was attached. Patrck tried to swallow again and walk hardly towards the man, his heart beating very fast. The boy in the cell moved to be on his knees, looking at what was happening. When Patrick was close enough, the man grabbed his wrist for him to be more closer. Patrick didn't dare to look at him, making his eyes meet the iron bar the man was heating up. He suddenly glanced at the man who could see the fear in his eyes. He smiled. "That's right." He whispered before pushing Patrick on the ground. This one tried to stand up but he felt the man's foot being pressed against his back before he could and he hit the floor again. "Come on, be smart. You don't want me to do it twice."

Patrick could feel his tears running down his cheeks as he raised his head to look at the terrified boy in the cage. He was almost against the bars, looking at the scene. Patrick wanted to ask him to help but what could he do? He suddenly saw the boy closing his eyes and turning around to not see.

Joe couldn't press his hands against his ears so even if he didn't see what he could easily imagined, he heard the screams. It would probably haunt him for life. It didn't last long but it was already too much. Patrick couldn't even breathe anymore, sweat was going down his temples and his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. He thought he was about to throw up, that he was about to die from asphyxia, that his head was gonna explode and that his back was on fire. He had all those feelings at the same time and so much more. He was shaking and he couldn't see clearly neither he could hear normally. He closed his eyes and when he opened him, Joe was laying next to him. He could see tears on the boy's red cheeks. Since his hands were tied, the man had ripped his tee-shirt for him to be shirtless too. They looked at each other between their sobs. Again, Patrick closed his eyes and felt himself being way more tired than he already was a second before. When he opened them, he could see and hear Joe begging the man for mercy. But he wouldn't give them that and Patrick fell unconscious when Joe started screaming because of the Mercury's symbol burn.


	9. Would Brendon And Pete Be Good To Come With Ideas To Pick Up A Boy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick follow some advices, the band perform for the first time since the accident and answer some questions about it.

"Okay, the best thing you can do is ignoring him." Brendon explained, sitting on a chair in front of Patrick, his hands on his knees. Patrick was listening closely on his bed's edge and raised an eyebrow.

"He will think he did something wrong if I start to ignore him without any reason..." He replied, shaking his head. "I mean, I don't want him to feel bad..." He mumbled, looking away. He was so uneasy there. As soon as he accepted to reveal his feelings to Pete, he signed his death sentence. His friend directly called Brendon, talking about some mission's result and announced "Patrick's undying love for Joe", as said by the bassist. Pete, who couldn't stop walking because he was thinking, finally stayed near the two men.

"Come on, maybe you know more about dicks than us but you never really tried to go out with anyone, you don't know how relationships work better than us." He said. Patrick shook his head again, rolling his eyes and chose to ignore Pete's first remark.

"Guys, I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... Things have to stay the same, I mean... If he doesn't like me... There will be trouble in the band and all."

"Oh man, don't give yourself excuses. You're just trying to escape but you're with us, now." Brendon replied with a smirk. Patrick rolled his eyes again.

"I shouldn't have told you, guys. Well, no, told Pete." He said as he stared at the one who told Brendon. Patrick was not that serious because it was kind of funny to see his two friends walking around and giving him stupid ideas. And at the same time, they didn't know half of their relationship and Patrick felt kinda sick about them maybe discovering the truth. Because in all scenarios Patrick could create in his head, they would end up by arguing and say things they shouldn't about their past, maybe in front of the others. Actually, there was a big mess in his head. He couldn't think straight and the two clowns in front of him were making all of this situation way harder.

But was it really Patrick's fault? Clearly not. It was Joe's. Yeah, right, it was all because of Joe. It was him that made Patrick's heart beating faster. It was him that made him think weird things when he was seeing him doing stuff as normal as eating, sleeping or playing guitar. They were playing guitar together since so long, but Patrick noticed a while ago that it was always another impression than when he was playing music with Pete or Andy. It was way different. Because everything he was doing with Joe was different. But he didn't understood it was love right away. And he clearly wasn't able to see the way Joe was looking at him, acting with him or talking to him. Everytime he talked to Patrick, he was softer. Well, except when they were fighting but it wasn't happening that much. They both knew about their feelings but were totally blind when it came to read the other's ones.

So basically, Patrick was sure Joe would never have the same feelings and Joe thought the same way with Patrick.

"I'm telling you, I'm not gonna ignore him." Patrick repeated, crossing his arms.

"Come on, you're not even trying!" Pete exclaimed before he sighed, frowning towards Patrick.

"Do you think your intimidating me, here, Peter?" Patrick said with a little smile.

"Try at least to look disinterested, 'kay?" Brendon asked. "For us, we just want to help you bud."

Patrick glanced at Brendon and rolled his eyes when he saw his face.

"You're not cute, stop that." He said as he stood up, walking towards his bedroom's door.

"Are you gonna do it?" Brendon asked, quickly standing up next to Pete. Patrick didn't turn around but nodded, leaving the room to avoid any other remarks. He could already feel his cheeks becoming red.

That's how Patrick ended with Pete always asking him how it was going. Patrick was exhausted. This one was sitting in front of a table with Pete, Joe staring at them. This one always knew they were super close and all that shit but since when did they spend every single second they had together? Okay, so maybe it was jealousy. So what? Joe didn't have the opportunity to spend some time alone with Patrick since a few days now. He was wondering if Patrick was stepping back by himself because of all that happened in the hospital. Maybe it was too much memories. So yeah, he was on the couch of the building, looking at the two guys. They had to perform in less than thirty minutes and they were waiting.

"He can't stop looking at you, you see?" Pete said with a smile. Patrick would have like that if it was because Joe was in love with him.

"Come on, he's not looking at me. He staring at us, man. I get you want me to ignore him and all this shit but he's probably thinking it's creepy the way we're acting."

"How could it possibly be creepy?" Patrick stared at Pete a few second and this one rolled his eyes. "Come on, it's funny."

"Yeah, speak for yourself..." Patrick mumbled, annoyed by all of this. Pete tilted his head.

"Oh. That's cute." He said with a smirk and Patrick frowned.

"You shut up, Pete, that's enough!" He tried to whisper, making Pete laugh.

"Don't be like that, Patrick, I'm sure he's about to strangle me like you want to do in a few minutes, I'm sure it's working."

Patrick shook his head and sighed. "I'm not sure about that..." He said before he slightly turned his head when Joe moved.

"Come on man, don't look, don't ruin everything now!" Pete whispered and Patrick stopped his movement, pursing his lips. Joe walked towards them and let his hands against the table's edge, slightly tapping.

"Patrick." He began. He also pursed his lips when all he had in return was an disinterested "Mh?" . Pete gave Patrick a big smile before he did like nothing was weird when Joe looked towards him. He looked at Patrick again. "You're sure it will be okay to perform? I mean... With your hand, you didn't let it fully recover..."

It was the first time the band was on stage since Patrick's accident and he still had his bandages. Going on stage was against his doctor advice but the singer wanted to sing in front of their fans so much again, he couldn't wait more. He nodded.

"Yeah."

And that was it. Joe looked at him a few seconds, looked at Pete and turned around. Patrick followed him with his eyes as the guitarist left the room and he sighed. Joe was worry about his friend but Patrick chose to take two idiot's advices to pick him up. He felt stupid and looked down.

"Come on man, you're doing great."

Patrick shrugged and leaned against his chair, crossing his arms. "It's annoying me."

"I know but you have to do it."

Again, Patrick was not sure about that and Pete noticed he stayed even more silent than before, looking at the door. Not talking that much to Joe was immediatly influencing his mood and it was influencing Joe's too. They went to perform anyway, after an announce from the host that it was their first performence since Patrick accident. The crowd was pretty excited to see them and once on stage, the guys were automatically feeling good. They performed "Centuries". Even if Patrick couldn't move as much as he wanted, he seemed to be fine. The reality was that not moving wasn't that much of a problem, he paid attention to not press his guitar too much again his stomach's injury but playing his guitar with his injured hand was making things harder for him, even if he didn't show anything. Whatever, Joe noticed because nothing could escape Joe when it came to Patrick. Before their performance, when he was talking to him, he could see how hard he tried to sound natural, not looking at him and his cheeks as red as Pete's bass, even if he didn't know what it meant. Anyways, there, on the show, they were sitting on a couch, talking and answering questions directly asked by the fans and compiled to be asked by the host. Joe looked at Patrick everytime this one was talking, he could see he didn't do any gesture. Because when he was talking, Patrick was always moving his hands a lot. But here, he kept them on his knees, sometimes the right soflty and discreetly massaging his left. Then came the accident's subject. Joe looked at the host again.

"So, guys, I hope it doesn't bother you to talk about that but Patrick's accident created a lot of talking and your fans were all worried but it seems that you're okay now. When will you be able to take of those bandages?" The man asked. Patrick was a little uneasy every time someone was mentionning the accident but smiled anyway.

"Well, soon. I mean, it's been a few weeks now and I'm feeling better as time passes. I'm still healing but..." He looked at the camera and the crowned, smiling more. "You don't have to worry anymore guys, I'm okay." The crowd responded with, screaming and the band laughed, looking at the host again.

"So... There was this video, on the Internet." Patrick looked down a little, taking a long breath. Yeah, the video. He was annoyed about that. Like, really annoyed. "I guess you guys saw it before it was taken down? What was your reaction?" The host asked. Patrick stayed silent, Andy looked away and Pete looked at an invisible point, trying to think about what to say. But Joe talked first.

"We were all angry. I mean, how can you film someone maybe dying when you could... I don't know, use your phone to call for help instead? I mean, my first reaction in front of an accident wouldn't be filming and post the video on the Internet like "Hey guys, look, that's funny, the man's bleeding." " Joe began before he sighed. He leaned against the couch and crossed his arms. "I know it wasn't the intention, but still. I don't think she had to film, you know."

The host nodded and Patrick started to talk.

"Yeah, I think angry is the right term. When I heard about the video, it wasn't long after surgery so I couldn't fully react but I felt bad. And when I thought about it after, it was anger, yeah. I can't really believe people can do that everytime something happens and yet, it's always happening. I think the only think we have to retain from that is that there is people like... James, was it?" He asked, automatically turning his head towards Joe. This one's heart skipped a beat as he nodded. "Yeah, people like James that react like they should. Even if he was scared, he tried his best to help me and didn't stood there, filming. You know what I mean, right?"

The host kept listening, everyone in the room was listening, it was the first time they mentionned the accident and a lot of people were hoping they would during this show. It was now Pete's turn.

"I think another thing... And you know, I mean... Well, we learned about the accident like that because the video went viral. I mean, yeah okay, great, we knew the situation way before we would have with a call from the hospital. But it didn't change the time we had to wait for the surgery anyway and I would have prefer to learn the situation through a phone call and not thanks to my suffering friend's images." Patrick looked away, leaning against the couch like Joe was doing. "No one to explain anything, to tell us there was... A chance for him to survive or... You know. We totally freaked out, way much more than we would have with a call from the hospital to tell us they were taking care of him or something."

The presenter nodded again and looked at his index cards.

"I myself saw the video and I can imagine it was even harder for you guys." He said before clearing his throat. "Pete, you kept the fans very aware of the situation after that. Videos, photos, you updated Patrick's state a lot and he was in good company and a fan noticed he still looked very tired. So, Patrick, you're already on stage again. She wants to ask if you didn't want to take some time off to rest and spend time with your family?"

Patrick looked at the host and gave him a little smile, his heart aching because of the mention of his family. "I took the time I needed and I personnally think I was ready. Perform with the band is something I need to feel good and spend time with the fans or doing music is basically something I nee in my everyday life. So, I think it's okay even if some say it's too soon. I'm just... Glad the fans are so concerned about my condition. I received a lot of support and I think the more important is that they know we're thankful."

"Well, I'm not gonna bother you with more of those questions guys. I hope you will be fully healed soon, Patrick, and thank you for to answering your fans. We had a great time with you." The host said as he stood up, starting clapping. The crowd did too and the band stood up to go and play "Thks Fr Th Mmrs". They had a great time during this show and went backstage. They started packing their instruments but Joe kept glancing at Patrick's hands. He sighed before they left the place. Pete had drove Patrick to the TV studio since this one still couldn't drive (and to be honest, he was scared to be on the road alone). But before Patrick could go towards Pete's car, Joe put a hand on his shoulder and Patrick turned around with a start. When he saw Joe, he felt his hands becoming moist, and his body getting warmer because of the increase of his heartbeat.

"Patrick, um... I don't know if I did something wrong..." He said, looking down. The singer felt automatically bad and opened his mouth to talk but Joe continued. "But even if I don't know what I could have done, I want to make it up for it... Can I drive you home? I need to talk..." He finally said. He looked in Patrick's eyes after he stopped talking, visibly uneasy. Pete was waiting outside of the car, staring at them and Joe's eyes glanced towards him. Patrick turned his head to look at Pete and looked at Joe again, nodding.

"Yeah, okay."

Joe smiled, with this genuine smile of his, that made him look way more innocent than he was. This smile which melted Patrick's heart and whole body. This smile that made his blue eyes being smaller. The singer had to remember to breathe before he looked at Joe. This one wasn't really agreeing but said nothing when Patrick said he was going with Joe. He just smiled and nodded before he entered in his car, taking his phone to call Brendon. He wasn't really annoyed, he knew Patrick would say yes because he could see not spending time with Joe was really annoying him. And now he could see it was having some effects on Joe. They had a result and he had to discuss it with Brendon.

 

They were silent during the beginning of the ride towards Patrick's place and Joe glanced at him sometimes. The singer seemed to be in his own thoughts, looking outside, his right fingers pressing a little his left hand.

"Is it still hurting since we played?" Joe finally asked, Patrick turning his head towards him. They looked in each other eyes a second, Joe looked down at Patrick's hand before being careful again about his driving. This time, Patrick didn't want to lie but he didn't know how he had to act. Did he still had to act disinterested with Joe?

"A little, yeah... I thought it would be ok but after I started playing, it just started to hurt."

Joe wanted to say it's because he wasn't taking any medication but thought maybe it would annoy Patrick, even if he didn't mean anything by that. He was looking at the road, a hand on the wheel, the elbow against the door. He had his thumb under his chin and his fist against his mouth, he was thinking as he drove.

He ended by park in front of Patrick's house and looked at him, removing his belt.

"Did I do something wrong?" He finally asked. Patrick looked at him and shook his head after a few seconds. "Is it... Because of the hospital?" This time, Patrick looked down, it wasn't because of that but Joe was, again, distant since those events. Maybe it was what annoyed Patrick. Joe was thinking about it since the singer started to be less with him and he didn't want his friend to think Joe was regretting anything. But he had to step back, he enjoyed being so close to Patrick. It was dangerous, he thought it was obvious he was in love with Patrick. But really, if he knew, he would not believe it. "So it's because of that."

Patrick looked at him again. "No, Joe, it's not... I..." He frowned, trying to find his words. Yeah, he has been hurt that Joe stopped taking care of him like he did in the hospital. "It's complicated." He finally whispered. Joe tried not to look slightly hurt, what he was.

"Too complicated for me to understand? I mean... We always tell each other everything..."

"I know Joe but... You don't have anything to blame yourself for. It's not your fault... It's mine..." Patrick tried to explain. But how could he do it without telling the truth? He didn't have a lot of reason to be distant. "It's an awkward mess in my head lately and... Yeah, to be honest, I would have like it better if it stayed like it was in the hospital." Patrick finally confess. He wasn't looking at Joe anymore, too shy for that.

"Come on." The guitarist said after a few seconds before he opened his door. They left the car, took their guitars and walked towards Patrick's home. This one opened the door and they entered. After putting his guitar on the floor, Joe walked directly towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Patrick asked with a little voice, uneasy since Joe didn't say anything back after what he confessed.

"Well, where are we going would be correct. We're going in the bathroom." Joe replied, still climbing up the stairs. Patrick frowned but followed, slower.

"What for?" He asked, looking at Joe's back.

"Well, I'm going to take care of you." He said, talking of course about Patrick's hand. This one couldn't help but blush, random images going through his mind. He stayed silent and couldn't help but smile a little as he climbed faster.


	10. If Running Away Was What Made Us Know Each Other, Is It What Will Make Us Spend Life Together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to "A nos amours" by Damien Saez while I was writing this chapter. I really like his songs and I was really inspired by this one while writing this.

For the first time in his life, Joe missed his foster home. Of course, he didn't know one day he would find a worse place.

This time, the room wasn't entirely dark, the man left them with weak lights for them in the cell, but all they could contemplate was the darkness around them. Patrick was still unconscious on the ground. They both passed out because of the burning session but Joe woke up half an hour ago. He was exhausted and all he wanted was to sleep but at the same time, he didn't want to. He couldn't. He had to be awake when Patrick would wake up, they had to find a way to get out. When Joe woke up, he was laying next to the boy, they were still shirtless and the floor was cold. Actually, their bodies were as cold as the floor now, their pants were humid and Joe knew right away he was starting to be sick. He sniffed as he tried to straighten. He ended up sitting on the floor, pressing his hands against it to be sure he wouldn't fall. And that's how he waited. He didn't dare to move anymore, he was dizzy and very tired. His eyes were slowly used to the lack of light but there was nothing for them in this cell. Not even food. But he could feel something on his skin, on the injury, actually. It was hurting but he was certain there was something. And when he could see more clearly, he could see the same thing on Patrick's shoulder blade. The man had treated their wounds, he probably wanted a good looking scar on both of them. Joe suddenly wanted to throw up. He was angry against himself, he felt weak, he wasn't able to get out of there. He was a very intelligent boy, above the average. But there was no way for him to use his brain correctly in this situation, he just couldn't focus.

He always tried to fit in. It's not that he didn't look intelligent, he was acting like everyone, like he was normal. Because for him, if there was one thing he was sure of, it's that he wasn't what the others teenagers consider normal. Maybe it was jealousy, maybe they just didn't understand. Joe didn't choose his brain, he didn't choose the way it was working, he didn't choose for it to be faster and more efficient. But it was and he didn't want to show it. So he was always keeping everything on his mind, too much probably. All his knowledges, his observations and his analyzes for himself. He just used his impressive memory during his exams, he didn't really need to study. It allowed him to focus on his music. That was probably the only thing he really enjoyed to do. It was a way to escape his own mind, his own thoughts and his entourage. The more he grew up, the less time he spent in this awful home with those other kids as unhappy as he was. He started spending some time with Peter Wentz, the bassist was understanding his love for music.

The young man tried to move, his arms and legs being painful. His body was way too cold and he could see mist crossing his lips every time he was breathing. He couldn't stay in the same position too long if he didn't want his body to hurt him too much.

"What are you thinking?" A weak voice asked. Patrick had opened his eyes since a few minutes, still laying on the floor and he has observed his fellow prisoner staring in front of him without moving, drowning in his thoughts. Now, he could see him looking at him but not answering. What was he thinking? All he knew was that he was thinking too much.

He was thinking about his dreams, he would have made his way through any difficulty with his fists squeezed to achieve his dream of being a famous guitarist. Even with his beautiful mind, he didn't want to do some big studies, he just wanted to play music, to let people hear the sound of his heart, the melody of his mind.

He was thinking about all those things he has lost into the boundless emptiness that was his life. He always thought everything around him was dead, that nothing would ever shine in his poor neighborhood mainly because of his deadbeat parents that let him on the sidewalk in front of his now so called home.

He was thinking about the nights he spent resting next to the hearth during winter nights, when everyone was asleep and that he was too cold in the bedroom he was sharing with three other kids. He spent some of those nights with a baby in his arms, trying to warm the child because he was crying and the foster parents didn't bother to come and see what was happening.

He was thinking about the moments he spent laying in the park's grass, his headphone on his head, looking at the sky. He was remembering when even this one ceased to have this bright blue to replace it with a gloomy color. It probably burnt itself to exhaustion trying to color a grey and damned world.

He have shed too many tears over those moments, crying for his griefs, during his moments of loneliness.

"I'm thinking about why I ran away..." He whispered before he sadly smiled to Patrick. This one used his hands to slightly straighten and pull his body towards the cold wall, his right and naked shoulder leaning against it.

"You ran away?" The older one asked with his broken voice. Joe nodded, listening to the rain pouring against the warehouse's roof. "I did too... Do you think... That's why he..." Patrick began, looking down.

"I don't know... I don't want to know... I just want to leave this place..." Joe said, feeling his chin shaking. He tried to stay strong but even if they were sixteen and seventeen, they were still kids. Patrick could hear a sob and he saw Joe pulling his legs against himself, letting his forehead against his knees. He put his hands on his head, his body shaking because of the cold and his sobs. Patrick tried to swallow his saliva before he moved slowly towards the younger one. Joe could feel Patrick's cold fingers against his arm and he raised his head a little. Their skin were white, their eyes were red and their lips were kind of purple. Joe's tears seemed burning against his cheeks as they ran down his skin.

"We will find a way..." Patrick whispered. He couldn't smile to Joe. He wanted to cry as well but he couldn't either. He had to try and be strong. That's why he let the boy lean against him as he used the wall to not lose his balance, still leaning his right side against it.

 

"Why did you run away?" Joe asked. The rain had stopped, it was still cold and they were freezing against each other. Patrick was still against the wall, Joe was laying on the floor, his head on Patrick's knees and his arms crossed. He paid attention to not be on his back to not hurt himself with the burn. He was looking at the bars and the light buzzed again when it stopped for a second. Patrick looked down at his new friend, biting his bottom lip.

"I... My parents..." He closed his eyes. He never talked about his life to anyone. "They... Died when I was young..." He almost muttered. His jaw was painful because of the cold and it was difficult for him to articulate, it didn't make things easier. "I'm at... My mother's brother's place... And..." He took a long breath. "He made me have those scars... I... It's been too long and I was sick of that... I just-"

"Couldn't take it anymore..." Joe said, interrupting Patrick. This one agreed with a weak "yeah" before he pursed his lips. "What happened to your parents?" Joe asked without thinking it could be difficult for Patrick to talk about that. All he was trying to do was keeping his eyes open. They were cold, starving, thirsty and their injury were painful. If he fell asleep, he wasn't sure he could open his eyes again. They were in there for too long. Patrick tried to clear his throat without success and he looked down to Joe again.

"My mother... Died giving me birth..." He explained, feeling his heart being painful too, like every time he was thinking of his parents. Joe stayed silent, moving slowly his arms to free one of his hands. He silently directed it towards the one Patrick had on his ribs and tried to press it between his fingers. Actually, he couldn't feel them anymore so he wasn't sure about the strength he was using but he felt Patrick's free hand resting against his head so he knew he was at least having his hand against his friend's. "My dad had a car crash... A drunk asshole drove... Right over his car when he was going... To pick me up at school..." He said, feeling a single tear running down his left cheek. He took a long breath, feeling his lungs burning and ended by coughing. Joe pursed his lips.

"I'm sorry..." He said.

"It's okay..." The older one said with a sad smile. He felt another tear but tried to not let Joe hear he was crying. Despite that, his voice was shaking as he continued. "At least, my dad is with my mom again... So they're probably happy..." And he couldn't help but think maybe he would be with them too very soon. But his thought was soon covered with dark ideas when he was again blaming himself for their death. He would probably go in Hell, never knowing what it was like to have his parents on his side. "It's okay..." He repeated, more to comfort himself than to say he was okay to Joe. This one moved a little, sighed and closed his eyes longer than before.

"I'm sure they are..." He whispered.

"Why did you run away?" Patrick also asked, too tired to wipe his tears. Joe didn't really know how to answer. Yes, he had parents, but Patrick wanted his so bad to be near him. Could he say that they were assholes? He didn't think so.

"All parents aren't like yours probably were... They left me on the sidewalk one day after school..." He said weakly, trying to press more Patrick's hand between his fingers. This one was listening, slowly feeling bad for Joe. "I was like... Eleven... And I grew up in this home with those other kids... No one's happy... But we have nowhere to go..." He explained, his breathing heavier than before. Talking made them breathless. "So we stayed there... We had food and clothes, we could go to school and sometimes, the people there were nice... And if you didn't respect the rules, you were punished..." At least, it wasn't like Patrick's uncle punishments. "You didn't have your meal or you couldn't get out of the bedroom during a few days, only to go to school... That's why we couldn't have toys in the room, because they locked you in... They wouldn't let you have fun, you were punished, see..." He said, closing his eyes again.

Almost a minute after, Joe suddenly pressed his hands against the floor, like he was full of energy again. His voice was raspy as he talked louder.

"That's it! I know how we're gonna get out!"


	11. Hugging You Is My Remedy, Let Me Be In Your Arms Every Time I Need It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I don't really like this chapter. I mean, I like it, it's a part I really wanted to write but idk, I just feel like it really doesn't look like I wanted it to be. I don't know, maybe it's because I'm super tired, I just can't write that good lately. I DON'T KNOW BUT I'M UPSET.  
> And my chapter title sucks too but it's hard to find one ):

"That's great. You will not have too visible marks here..." Joe almost whispered. He went in the bathroom to take what he needed to take care of Patrick, like he said, and they walked towards his bedroom to be able to sit. They were on the bed's edge and Joe had removed the first bandage on Patrick's left arm and hand. Patrick's skin was damaged but it was because of little pieces of glass so he would only have white and small scars not really visible. Joe looked at his pale skin, softly passing his fingers against it. They were close and since Joe's head was down to see the singer's arm, Patrick didn't care too much about the fact he found himself staring at Joe again. He didn't really know why the musician wasn't doing his bandage but was only looking at him and touching him. He wasn't really uneasy with his behavior, he knew Joe's mind made him think way more than the three other band's members but the fact his warm fingers were touching him made him have a shiver running down his back and blush a little.

"What are you thinking, Joe?" He asked genuinely. His friend stopped his fingers' movement, slowly looking up. He stared at Patrick during a few seconds before looking at an invisible point apparently on Patrick's torso. Joe had a little smile and shook his head.

"When was the last time you went on your parents grave since your accident?" He finally asked. Patrick swallowed his saliva and looked down.

"You already know I go to see them a lot."

"I didn't ask that, Patrick." Joe replied instantly, focusing on Patrick's hand this time. Patrick was observing his every moves and the way Joe's pupils were detailling his injured hand. He cleared his throat.

"I didn't." He finally replied. Joe nodded with the way he used to do to say "I know, I'm asking that to make you realize something". Patrick felt suddenly uneasy and bring back his hand to himself. "Stop that, Joe..." He said as the guitarist glanced at him. This one joined his hands on his legs and looked at Patrick's wardrobe. Persons with high intellectual quotient tended to have less emotional quotient, Joe had this particular problem, it was always very difficult for him to express the way he was feeling without making himself or the others uneasy and sometimes, he just couldn't really show his emotions like someone else would. That's way it was a hard time for him to deal with his feelings for Patrick and why he was talking so simply about his parent's death. But he was really like that only with the band members, he was more extrovert and polite when he was spending time with the fans or during the interviews and TV shows because he had been asked to. That's why he wasn't really delicate when it came to serious subjects with Patrick and it often leaded at arguing. Patrick sighed and looked at his hand. "I'm not ready to go back there yet." He whispered. "That's all." Joe shook his head. "I told you that's all, Joe, I'm not talking about that anymore." Patrick said, trying to show he was serious. This time, Joe stared at him and Patrick lost himself in his blue eyes during a second, finally turning his head, blushing.

"Sometimes, you're worse than me when it comes to talking..." He said before laughing a little. Patrick cringed and shrugged his shoulders. "Is it because it was also a car crash or just because you felt like back there?" Joe asked. Patrick's whole body became warmer as he looked at Joe again.

"Stop that, I told you."

"Come on." Joe said with a smile. The way Patrick was acting when Joe was finding what was wrong was always amusing the guitarist because he was cute even when he was upset. "What did I say in the car? I thought we could tell each other everything. Lately, I just feel like... You just don't say anything to me. You're almost avoiding me and you don't want to talk. Didn't you say you wanted to be able to talk about what happened with me?"

"That's it, Joe, I'm serious..." Patrick said, looking down. He didn't dare to face Joe at this moment.

"That is not it. Did I do something wrong for you not talking to me anymore?"

"No you didn't. I told you it's an-"

"Yeah, an awkward mess in your head, don't worry I remember everything you say to me, I got the memory for that." Actually, Joe could remember every words Patrick had ever say to him thanks to the memory he had been given at his birth. "So tell me, because of what is it? Why aren't you telling me? You spend all your time with Pete like I wasn't even existing and you seem doing pretty good, like nothing was going on in your head, and you still talk to Andy too. So what did I do?"

Patrick shook his head. Joe sighed and took his arm between his fingers again, using the other to take the new bandages. Patrick slowly looked at Joe. When he finished the bandage, the guitarist raised his head and Patrick get lost in his eyes during a few seconds.

"I felt like..." The singer began. Joe interrupted him.

"Do you finally say it just because I have to almost force you to talk again or because you really want to share something with me?" He asked.

"I want to." Patrick said with a little voice, his heart beating faster. He tried and kept looking at his friend. "I really do..." He said lower. Joe crossed his arms and stayed silent. Patrick gritted his teeth before he sighed. "I... You're right, okay. I'm weak. I-I just wished I could go. I felt like I did back there yeah, I was unconscious and almost glad I would leave and maybe see them. Not thinking about you guys, what does it tell about me? You think I'm proud I didn't evolve like you since what happened? I can't go on their grave, you always say their proud of me but how could they be? I still cry at night, I'm still afraid of the dark and I want to give up on life every time it gives me a chance to. So what, Joe? What can I do? Tell you, fight with you again and feeling more bad because I'm a burden again? I pass."

Joe wanted him to talk but he surely didn't predict this explosion from his friend. He let his arms fell along his body and stared at Patrick. He then frowned a little, tilting his head a bit.

"You're not a burden, Patrick. You never had been, I already told you that. The problem is not the fact you keep everything in you and can't handle it or anything. The problem is your self-esteem."

"I don't have any self-esteem problem, I'm just-"

"You have because it has been ruined and the fame can't even change your mind a little, you still think everything you do is badly done and shit."

"I..." Patrick began, ending by opening his mouth a few times without any sound crossing his lips. This time, he didn't felt like crying, he felt like indulging himself in Joe's arms without being able to.

"Keep going." Joe said when Patrick looked down. He put his hand under his chin and raised his head again. "Keep going and talk to me..." Patrick shook his head, mumbling something. "What?" Joe asked, frowning, bending towards Patrick.

"Can you drive me there?" He finally asked. "I still can't walk this kind of distance and... I don't want to drive..." Patrick said almost ashamed by himself.

"Yeah, okay." Joe said softly, nodding. Patrick slightly smiled and stood up with his friend.

 

Joe parked his car in front of the cimetery, on the other side of the street. It wasn't very hot outside and Patrick didn't leave the car immediatly. He glanced at Joe before looking right in front of him.

"If you don't want me to come, it's okay. I'm gonna wait here." His friend said. He knew Patrick was going a lot to the cimetery, sometimes just because he needed it, sometimes because he was sad, sometimes because it has been a long time he hadn't been there because of touring and sometimes it was just to spend hours there without doing anything but be at this place. But Joe never even think about going with him, he never felt like it was his role. But this day, he knew there was this possibility of him going there if his friend needed it and he knew Patrick didn't know if he should asking him to go with him or not. He smiled to Patrick to encourage him and this one slightly nodded, mumbling a "thank you" before he opened the car's door. As soon as he was outside, he knew he took a bad decision and that he should have asked Joe but he closed the door. Joe watched him keeping his hand on the handle, looking at the cimetery from behind the car. And finally, the man moved. The guitarist followed him with his eyes before leaning in his seat, sighing and turning the radio on.

 

More Patrick was walking in the cimetery, more grey the sky seemed to be. They were clouds all over it and Patrick put his hands in his pockets. He should have took his jacket, he thought, walking between the headstones. He felt this knot in his stomach as he was slowly approaching his parents' resting place. It was near the end of the cimetery, in front of the little wall surrounding the place and next to a big tree. The singer had his head down as he was walking towards this tree, stopping in front of two headstones. He slowly started to stare at them, feeling his heart aching. Every time he was there, he felt weak. And it wasn't really a bad thing, he could spend hours there, talking about what was heavy in his mind and crying there knowing no one would know. No one ever knew besides the band's members. He was facing the headstones, biting his bottom lip. He never had been really shy when it came to talk to the graves since he was going to the cimetery since he was a young kid. It was almost natural. But this time, he didn't find the words right away. And when he did, he couldn't help but apologize. Apologize for his behavior, for his wish of joining them in the other world when he was unconscious, for not being the son he should be. Everything in three little words, "I'm sorry", words he shouldn't even think because he had nothing to be blame for. He pursed his lips and stayed on his feet during a moment, looking down as his eyes were becoming itchy. The wind blew, petals flew from the tree and Patrick didn't feel the cold as he slowly sat in front of the headstones, crossing his legs. He took a long breath, pressing his head against his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He rubbed his hands against his eyes before looking again at the two stones. He had a little laugh, a sad one, shook his head and started talking about how he felt lately, his fingers slowly touching the cold grass as he sadly smiled.

 

During this time, in the car, Joe had closed his eyes, listening to the music he didn't put very loud, thinking about all of this. It was clear Patrick had some problems lately. Not just because of the accident. He still didn't say why he was almost ignoring him but he didn't want to be too hard on him, knowing there was a lot going on in his head lately. He sighed when the music stopped and a man started speaking. He opened his eyes and looked at the radio, ready to change the station. Yet, he stopped his move when he heard what the man had to say.

"The end of the year is near and this one marked the fifteen anniversary of some of the worst crimes you heard of. Watch out for our special broadcast on saturday about those serial killers who made our walls shake. We will be talking about those criminals stuck in jail or dead since fifteen years." The man said with a sort of excitation in his voice, starting to name some of the criminals. Joe's heart skipped a beat when he heard "The Mercury's killer" and he automatically looked towards the cimetery. He had this feeling he needed to be near Patrick. The simple mention of the killer's nickname made him feel so insecure he had this urge to be next to his friend, he didn't know why, he felt he had to be sure nothing happened to him during the already fifteen minutes he has been gone and being alone in front of the cimetery made him feel bad. He was hesitating. He couldn't go there like that, he didn't want to annoy Patrick. But this time it wasn't Patrick that was feeling insecure and even if this one had somehow more difficulties to talk about what was wrong, Joe was the kind of person to be more likely to go and share with the only person he could talk about that. Even if he didn't know how to do it, even if he didn't know what words he should use, he just needed to be in his arms. And was it a coincidence that "My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark" was played on the radio after the announcment? Acting in all those music videos had been really hard for Joe and Patrick, it was a constent reminder of what happened to them but they wanted to pleased the fans by doing that, they liked the final result. But during the filming, it had been a tough time.

Joe went out of his car.

 

"I feel more bad for you than for me..." Patrick whispered, looking at his father's grave. It would be his birthday in a few months now, thrity-two years old. He would have live the same age as his father, dead in February, a few weeks after his own birthday. It wasn't something Patrick could easily not think of. The way it came back in his mind was almost obsessive. He sighed and laughed again, feeling his chin shaking. He couldn't believe he still was that scared kid inside when he was thirty-one. But the doctors explained to him after what happened that he might suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder and that he could handle some things in a different way others would. It was the same for Joe. It was probably for that they grew up too soon but kept that traumatised part of them that made them cry sometimes at night and act in weird ways when they were in too small and closed places or else. Pete and Andy always noticed that but never ask anything.

Joe slowly walked in the cold grass, looking at Patrick still sat in front of the graves. Joe felt bad, seeing him like that. He was pale with red eyes and seemed cold. Some memories flew through Joe's head, the singer reminding him the way they looked in the warehouse. He saw Patrick's blue eyes slowly going from the graves to Joe and from Joe to the graves as he seemed to pull his legs even more against him. The guitarist stayed silent when he approached, slowly sitting behind Patrick.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered. "I don't want to bother you..." He said as he approached, his legs going on both sides of Patrick's body. This one could feel Joe's arms going around him and trying to pull him more against his warm body. That was weird, still, Patrick let him do it.

"Joe..."

"There's no one to see..." He muttered, knowing what was bothering his friend. Well, Patrick actually would have like people misunderstanding the situation if someone was there to see. But he was glad he had this moment alone with his parents and now with Joe. He felt good against him and felt the cold air less than before. Joe felt Patrick slowly leaning against him and he closed his eyes. He was already feeling better now he was there. "I just needed to come and-"

"It's okay..." Patrick whispered, interrupting him. He closed his eyes too and smiled a little. "I'm glad you're here..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think those bad boys will be together soon but I still have some ideas I need to work on so it doesn't mean it will be the end of the story (idk if you want it to stop, i'll continue for now anyway).  
> So the next chapter is a flash-back, and then I will include Andy more, the princess needs to be in the place too.
> 
> And thank you for the kudos, guys, I appreciate it.


	12. We Would Rather Die In This Storm Than In This Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm already feeling better about this chapter than for the one before. 
> 
> I took some parts of the chapter four for this one, not because I was lazy but because it's to remind the nightmare Patrick had was a flashback. But I modified those parts 'cause like I said, it was a nightmare and some of the elements were confused, not totally like the reality, which is normal. I prefer to tell in the beginning in case you would skip this part to not read the same thing again (but like i said i changed some of the elements).

"Tyler!" The man shouted. A teenager probably about seventeen entered in the room. He looked exhausted, his clothes were dirty, he was thin and had dry blood under his nostrils. "The boy needs to pee." He said, pointing at Joe with his chin. The abductor was taking care of Patrick's burn, this one moaning when he touched it, and Joe was in the cell, looking at the newcomer. He looked like them, he was very pale like he didn't see the sun since a while. Joe stepped back behind the bars as Tyler opened the cell with the keys the man gave him. He had to hold Joe's wrist between his fingers as he walked towards the man to give him back the keys. Patrick could see them leaving the room, Joe walking like he was dizzy.

Actually, he was. He knew he was going to be sick, he always was when it was cold because his body was weak, probably because he wasn't being fed enough. Here, it was cold, humid and the injury on his back could be infected. He was coughing more as the time was passing and even if he was cold, his face was burning because of his fever. He wasn't feeling good at all and his headache wasn't helping but he kept following the boy, determined to make them going out of there. They were in a hallway, they could hear the drops on the roof but Joe decided to add his voice in this too silent place.

"What is he going to do?" He whispered. Tyler glanced at him. He let go of Joe's arm, he didn't want to hurt him when the boy's face was already marked by the abductor's fists. He didn't answer at first, he just kept walking, Joe still following. They entered in another room and Tyler turned on the light.

"I need to stay with you, sorry 'bout that." He said as he walked in the room towards another door. He opened it and Joe could see the toilet. He shrugged his shoulders and walked towards it, he didn't have to pee, it was just an excuse and he had been lucky the man allowed him to use a proper toilet. He bent over it and looked inside. The other boy cringed, wondering what the hell he was doing and if he was about to throw up, what he could easily understand.

"Since when are you here?" Joe asked with his broken voice, putting one of his hand into the toilet. The guy frowned but didn't do anything.

"You don't really know, when you're here." He answered. Joe glanced at him, apparently trying to take something. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Well, obviously, I'm peeing." He said before he sighed and rolled his eyes. This movement made his head aches more and he closed them during a few seconds before shaking his head. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm trying to take my escape ticket." He said before he finally broke the cleaning tablet. He stood up and looked at it. He had to take what was inside but couldn't do it so simply. He looked at the boy, putting what he took in his back pocket. Tyler mumbled something and Joe asked again. "What is he going to do to us?" The other boy sighed, looking at the door.

"He... I stayed in there... I don't know what amount of time... But I was with a guy. He let us there, burnt our shoulder-blade and made us fight."

"And you won, apparently..." Joe whispered. He didn't want to fight with Patrick. Tyler nodded. "What happened to the other one?" He asked. This time, Tyler pursed his lips. He opened them slightly after a few seconds to let a whisper cross them.

"He killed him." Joe swallowed his saliva. "The one who will win between you guys will have to fight me. If I lose, I die. I guess he's always doing like that. We weren't the first and you won't be the last." Tyler said before he walked again to go out of the room. Joe followed him, putting one hand against the wall to not lose his balance. The other one looked at him and gritted his teeth. "He doesn't like signs of weakness. Don't show him you're sick or he will replace you... It's not fun for him if he knows who will win."

"I'm not staying here anyway." He said, sure of him.

"Maybe you can go now... I can say you hit me or something and-"

"And I'm not leaving without Patrick." Joe conclued.

 

If he had to take a wild guess, which he didn't like to do, he would say Joe was the one who would win. At that moment, he seemed weaker but the man noticed the difference between the two teenagers. Joe was more rebellious, Patrick was more likely to be subjected. The man thought that if they had to fight each other, the taller one would easily accept to fight compared to the other one. But god, was he wrong. He didn't like to observe them too much to stay surprised when they would fight, so he didn't really know the way they were behaving towards each other and he surely didn't know what was going on in Joe's mind. Anyway, after he also checked on Joe's injury, he walked him in the cell again before he gave them water and not too much to eat. He only left with Tyler after that.

"You okay?" Patrick asked, concerned about Joe's condition. This one was on his feet again and nodded.

"Yeah, don't worry. We need to get out or we're fucked."

"How are we gonna do that?" The older one asked. Joe was talking about a plan since a while now but didn't seem likely to start and explain it. Patrick watched him take the tablet he let in his pocket and start rubbing it against the wall. "Joe, what is that?" He asked, not understanding what was happening.

"We don't have time to talk. It has chlorine in it." He briefly said, still rubbing it. Patrick raised his eyebrows but let Joe doing his thing. "I need fabric, give me fabric." He asked, trying to stay focused despite the way his head was spinning. How did he want Patrick to find him fabric? This one looked around him. Didn't the guy rip Joe's shirt? He walked towards the bars and looked on the ground. There was the dirty blue and useless ripped tee-shirt on it. Patrick pursed his lips before he squatted and passed an arm between the bars. He tried without success at first. He heard Joe had open the cleaning tablet and was taking what was inside. Patrick lay down, still trying to reach the tee-shirt. He could touch it with the end of his fingers, he needed to keep trying. Slowly, he could move the cloth towards him before he could grab it between two fingers. He sighed and stood up, walking towards Joe.

"I got that." He said, looking at Joe's hand. He had little blue balls in it and Joe smiled a little, taking the tissue and mumbling a "thanks" before he walked towards the cell's door, Patrick following.

"Give me a button from your pants."

"What?

"It's in metal. Give it to me."

Patrick did so, tearing the button until the wire connecting it to the pants broke. Joe put the chlorine in the tee-shirt, rubbing it against the bars before he opened the fabric again. The small balls were destroyed to let place to a blue powder. Joe put the metal button in the powder and closed the tee-shirt again, rubbing it against the bars. "Come on... Okay, don't breath that..." He said, trying the best he could. Patrick stepped back, not breathing the chlorine fumes, if he did, it could his lungs damage pretty badly, he just looked at the smoke Joe was making. It's in a fast movement that Joe put the fabric into the lock before stepping back, putting a hand on Patrick's torso to make him do the same. "Let the fumes do their job." They waited a few seconds before clearly hearing a sound from the lock. Joe had a smirk and walked towards the cell's door, pushing it. Patrick's heart skipped a beat when it opened.

"What the... Are you a genius or something?" He asked, still not believing it. Joe turned around, looking at him.

"Kind of." He said before he walked towards the place the man burnt them. He took the metal bar just in case and looked at Patrick. "Whenever you're ready." It didn't take a second to Patrick to start walking quickly towards the front door. He put his hand on the handle and glanced at Joe.

"We're not free yet..." He whispered before opening the door, a big hallway appearing in front of them. They swallowed their saliva, glanced at each other and started to walk. They had to be very careful. They were silent, the only things being heard being their breaths and the rain pouring. They both kept a hand against the wall to be sure their weak bodies wouldn't give up on them. They didn't know where the exit was and when they arrived in the end of the hallway, they had to choose between going to the left or the right side.

"Wait..." Joe whispered, closing his eyes and taking long breaths. It was already cold but he tried his best to see if he could feel an air flow coming from one of the sides. He looked at their left. "There's wind coming from there..."

"Are you sure?" Patrick whispered. Joe wasn't, who knows if it was an exit or if they had to go further in this place to find their way? They didn't want to get lost and locked again. They stared at each other during a moment before they startled because of a big noise. Their instinct was to run in the direction Joe pointed out before even if it was wrong, not noticing it just was the roar of the storm. They were too afraid for that but couldn't focus enough to be that careful. They were in bad conditions, they couldn't care less about the origin of this noise as they were running as fast as they could.

 

All the two teenagers could hear were their heavy breathing and their quick footsteps as they were running through this cold and not really lighted hallway. It was very dark, actually, the few neon lights were weak and blinking but not enough to not reflects to some puddles of water on the ground. The walls and the floor were almost dark and Patrick felt water being splashed on his pants as his feet hit another puddle. He looked down to the ground and in front of him again, seeing Joe a meter away, trying to kept running. He was seeing his back, his legs moving as fast as possible and his injured back, his skin being very pale and dirty around the red part surrounding the burn. He saw him pushing one of his hands against the wall to not fall while turning to his right. Patrick did almost the same as he, in a way, run into the wall with the left side of his body, moaning because of the pain caused by the impact on his damaged shoulder. But he didn't stop any second, he was just going too fast to turn properly. He kept running behind the boy with the short and curly hair. His lungs were burning and he thought he was about to throw them up at any moment. The other had probably the same problem, his breathing was hoarse and heavier than his but he kept moving forward. They had to keep running. They didn't have any strenght left so they didn't know how they were doing it. They could hear the drops falling on the ground from the low ceiling and the light creating a noise everytime it went off for a second and Patrick almost could hear his heart beating so fast it could probably destroy his chest if it kept that rhythm. He wanted to swallow his saliva but his throat was way more dry than his mouth so he ended up coughing and the younger boy looked at him a second.

"Come on!" The boy's weak voice said to him as he kept running. Shit, Patrick should have been more concerned about sports lessons. It was difficult for both of them but he knew they wouldn't stop even if they wanted to. And as they turned to their right, they could see the end of the hallway. They went far enough but weren't they stuck in there? They stopped and leaned a second against the wall. But they didn't have that much time left, the man could come back at any minute and obviously notice they escaped. They looked at each other, their blue eyes connecting an instant as they looked around them. If they weren't finding a way, they were fucked, they would both die. Patrick looked up and saw a little ray of light from above and also drops running down the wall. The air flow Joe felt sooner was coming from there. He put a hand on his new friend's arm as he showed him his discovery.

"There!" He said, hearing his own voice breaks. They looked at each other again and totally knew what they had to do. Patrick prepared his hands, letting the sixteen year old boy putting his barefoot on them and he lift him up with his weak arms. The boy hit the bar he had between his fingers against the top of the wall and it was, like they thought, clay. Patrick could hear Joe letting the iron bar fall on the ground as he started digging with his hands to be more efficient. He was hurting himself and the blood on his fingers slowly mixed with the clay. It fell enough for them to finally go in the passage and the boy press his dirty hands on the edge like he could, Patrick helping him. It was slippery but he did his best before he disappeared from Patrick's sight. All he could feel was cold water falling against him by the hole digged by the boy. His heartbeat increased when he had to wait but he suddenly saw the boy's dirty and bloody hand. He took it and helped himself by putting his feet against the wall, trying to climb up. Joe's second hand grabbed his arm as he was trying to pull him. Patrick succeed and passed under the fenced above them, being careful to not hurt himself more because of it.

Patrick's body fell against Joe's as he tried to stood up and they allowed themselves to stay a few seconds against the ground before the younger one put his hands against Patrick shoulders to make him move. They helped each other to stood up on the wet ground and raised their head towards the sky. They let the rain run down their skin before looking behind them. The warehouse was big but they were underground all this time. They didn't see any car near the building but they didn't know if it meant the man was far from this place. The road was a few meters away from their position and Patrick pointed it out before starting to walk. He had to turn around and look at Joe when he noticed this one wasn't following him. He was on his knees and Patrick run towards him.

"Hey, hey, Joe! Look at me!" He had to shout because of the storm as he put his hands on Joe's shoulders. "Joe, we did it okay? Stay with me! We need to walk, we're gonna find help!" He said. Joe looked at him and Patrick could feel his body was burning. The boy was sick as hell. Patrick looked at the road again, tired. But he wouldn't give up on their escape, Joe helped him and now it was his turn. "Come on, man!" He shouted as he took Joe's right arm and passed it around his shoulders. He was suffering because of the injury and could feel the bandage was beginning to move because it was too wet. He gritted his teeth and used the strength he had left to make Joe stand up. This one was dizzy and his vision was blurry but he tried and walked with Patrick. Starving and exhausted, the two boys walked towards the road. It would be easier than staying in the mud, slipping and almost falling every two seconds. It was really dark, there were no lights and no cars. It was probably very late in the night and their only solution was to find a house. Patrick told himself that if there was a warehouse, it meant there was population near this place. It was more to reassure himself but he wasn't entirely wrong. He found houses but it took much longer than he thought as they were more and more tired as they were walking. Joe was almost letting Patrick pull him, not feeling his legs anymore. They didn't have their bandages anymore either and the rain was making them suffer even more, falling on their injuries. The older one didn't have any strength left as he was walking in the middle of the road. He looked at the houses on both sides of the road before he felt Joe falling on his knees again. "J-Joe, we're... It's over now..." He said. The rain wasn't as strong as before but he wasn't sure Joe could hear him. He helped the boy to lie on the concrete, putting a hand on his warm body. He was on his knees next to his friend as he looked at the houses again. His heart was beating fast as he shouted for help. He used all the strength he had left to scream, cry and beg for help in the middle of the street.  
When he saw the lights being turned on in some of the houses, he shouted one more time before he put his hands on the ground, trying to catch his breath. Doors opened and he let himself fall on the ground.


	13. I Can Take Your Problems Away With A Nod And A Wave Of My Hand, 'Cause That's Just The Kind Of Boy That I Am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I'm feeling about this chapter, maybe it's just weird because it's almost the end BUT I don't know how it will turn (happily for sure) so there probably will be some other chapters (mainly for the flashbacks and some other stuff linked to this chapter, I guess) but I'll write other stories anyway. I really didn't figure out how I will end this one though but thanks for the kudos guys, don't forget to leave a comment, it's always good to know your opinion ! 
> 
> And I'm sorry it there is more mistakes in this one, I wrote and posted it between my courses, I just wanted to write something. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story !

"You're even more stupid than Pete sometimes." Joe turned his head towards Andy, an eyebrow raised. Andy smiled at him. "You know what I mean." Joe kept looking at him, not smiling, before he looked down, tightening his fingers around his beer. Of course, he wasn't stupid with an IQ of 172 but Andy was talking about what Joe just told him. "If I follow you, you had plenty occasions to tell him your feelings yesterday but you never did." The drummer said, tilting his head. Joe shrugged his shoulders before he took a sip of his beer, raising his legs to put his feet on the table in front of his TV.

"Why would I?" He asked.

"Are you serious? C'mon." Andy said, bending to let his arms resting on his legs, his hands joined. He was looking at Joe, trying to understand what was going on in his head.  
"Of course I'm serious. What's the point of talking about something like that when you know it's not going to change anything or even ruin everything?" Joe said, still looking in front of him.

"But you know there's fifty percent of chances he's feeling the same way, doesn't it mean anything?" Andy asked, desperate to make his friend talk to Patrick. He saw Joe looking up only one second before he looked at Andy.

"Actually, if you consider everything, there is a thirty-eight percent of chances for him to feel the same." He replied. Andy rolled his eyes.

"So there is at least one chance for him to feel the same. Isn't it worth it?"

"Well, no, if you consider all the damages it could cause."  
"You're exhausting."

"You guys tell me that too much, if you want my opinion."

Andy couldn't help but laugh a little as he stood up. Joe followed him with his eyes, taking another sip from his beer when the drummer walked in front of him and disappeared in the kitchen. Joe turned his eyes towards the TV and raised the sound, shaking his head a little. When Andy came back, he stayed a minute near the kitchen door to watch Joe looking at the TV. He never understood the man was spending a lot of time with Patrick without any problem when he was crazy in love with the man. He sighed and came back near Joe, sitting next to him this time. He crossed his arms, looking at the TV without really watching it. He knew Joe wasn't really likely to talk about his feelings, it was already a miracle he talked about that this day. All Andy had do was asking him how he was doing and suddenly, Joe started to talk about the day before, after the TV show they were in. Maybe it showed the guitarist was still affected by the events, that his feelings were hard to handle even if he was hardly showing it. Almost five minutes after the conversation, Joe finally shut down the TV without saying he was about to do it and looked at Andy.

"Besides, I wouldn't even know how to say it to him." He said. Andy tried to not smile and turned his head towards his friend.

"Well, maybe you can use words."

"Pete is the talented one when it comes to words, not me."

"Yeah, you're a mess." Andy said with a smile. Joe shook his head and looked away. "Come on, I'm joking."

"No, I am a mess, I can't talk properly. Everytime you guys say I'm exhausting and all this stuff but that's true, he probably thinks the same."

"But we're not serious, it's just hard keeping up with you. But the way he's ready to die from a brain damage to try to understand everything you say sometimes shows he doesn't really care if you're a mess or not. We gave up a long time ago to understand all you can talk about with the others."

"He's not like that..."

"Knowing you, I thought there was no chance for you to be that blind but maybe you can tell me how much of a percentage there is for that too." Andy said with a smile, slightly amused by his friend. Joe rolled his eyes and shook his head, crossing his arms after he drank the rest of his beer and put the empty bottle on the table. "Think about his behavior with you and do the math, you genius." He said before taking the remote to turn on the TV again. Joe glanced at Andy a second before looking at it. Again, the advertisement for the broadcast about serial killers was being showed and made Joe slightly uneasy. Still looking at the TV, Andy talked. "It's not really my thing but Pete want to watch that with us at his place, serial killers always fascinated him apparently, or something like that. You're going?" He asked. It took a few seconds for Joe to talk, letting a shiver run down his back.

"I don't know."

 

But he went. He knew what he was going to see, well not totally, but he still went there. When he arrived at Pete's house and parked his car, he directly entered in the house. He didn't have to knock on the door or anything, they knew each other for way too long. The first thing he heard was Bronx laughing before he saw him running towards him in his pajamas, followed by a not really intimidating Patrick. This one stopped when he saw Joe, suddently uneasy and he smiled at his friend.

"Joe, you made it!" He said with a smile. At this point, Joe wasn't sure if Patrick knew what they were going to see or if Pete only said he wanted to hang out at his place. Bronx was hiding behind his him, looking at Patrick and he put a hand on his head, nodding.

"Yeah, as you can see." He said before seeing Pete coming towards them.

"Bronx, you need to go to bed now, come on buddy." He said with a smile before looking at Joe. "Hey man, everybody's here now, I thought you wouldn't show up!"

Well, he almost didn't. He didn't actually know why he did. Was it just curiosity? It's not like the journalist could talk about Patrick and Joe, they always had to respect their wish of staying anonymous, it wouldn't change now. So there was no way Andy, Brendon and Pete would know they were concerned. But still, he didn't know why he came. Maybe it was just to spend some time with Patrick. He shook his head and followed his friends towards the living room after he said good night to Bronx.

"Meagan has her girl night and we have all night for ourselves, guys!" Pete said with a smile. "Saint's already sleeping, and Bronx's in his bed. So you're ready?"

"What for?" Patrick asked with the same smile on his lips as he sat next to Joe, this one sitting with his arms crossed, looking at Pete.

"To watch the broadcast on those killers and all!" Pete said, he genuinely seemed excited. Patrick looked at him during a few seconds before he had a nervous laugh. He glanced at Joe and saw his serious face. He stopped laughing, looked at Pete and sat.

"What is it?" Pete asked, raising his eyebrows as he sat in the couch between Patrick and Andy.

"Nothing, I didn't know we were gonna watching that."

"It'll be cool!"

"Yeah, I guess so..." Patrick said, trying to smile. He leaned on the couch and turned his head towards Joe, whispering. "Don't tell me you knew about that?" He said. He gritted his teeth when he saw Joe didn't change his expressions and turned his head towards the TV. He felt Joe's hand going slowly behind his back and even if it felt good, Patrick was still freaking out. The program didn't begin immediately and Joe and Patrick didn't really take part in the three others' conversation. Andy didn't talk that much either but he wasn't super talkative on a daily basis. The singer tried to focus on the movement of Joe's hand on his back as he was watching the advertisements. And it finally began. It was a long program because they had to talk about a few others killers too but after almost an hour came the Mercury's killer subject. Patrick and Joe hears every words the reporter was saying like it was resounding in their head as he introduced him as a terrible killer who killed five teenagers running away from their houses and that only two of his victims survived. Their hearts skipped a beat and Patrick felt that Joe wasn't moving his hand anymore. This one was feeling suddenly sick just by the evocation of the killer. Patrick crossed his arms and stopped looking at the screen as they showed a picture of the killer. Joe was looking intensely at the screen. He never forget any detail of the man's face and it was killing him.

Brendon was looking towards Patrick, he had felt this one was uneasy since they knew what they were going to watch but he also noticed he was avoiding to look at the screen now. He frowned but said nothing and focused on the TV again. Pete was on the edge on the couch, going on with his comments as he did all along since the beginning of the show.

"He doesn't seem mean. I mean, he looks like a family man, not a killer. That's funny."

Joe gritted his teeth and kept staring at the screen as Patrick felt like a hand was squeezing his heart.

"Come on, they almost never look like killers." Brendon said.

"Poor kids though." Andy said, crossing his arms and tilting his head as pictures of the victims were shown. Patrick moved a little, looking at the screen with the fear to hear his own name and Joe's. They showed pictures of the warehouses, where the teens were locked and where the two boys escaped, explaining how they did it, talking about how the younger one digged with bare hands after he used his knowledge to open the cell.

"The two survivors decided to remain anonymous after the facts, we will not deliver their pictures but we are going to talk about them and what they have been through." Said the host as he turned towards a man. "We have with us Mr. Kent who knows this case well, being an important part of it." The time has passed but Patrick could recognize the detective's face, Joe did as well, of course. They both were very depressed on the couch. They started talking and it finally happened.

"Those boys are very lucky to have survived even after the events. To be honest, I didn't think they could make it. They find themselves a way to escape from the warehouse and walked almost an hour in the storm. They were sick, the younger one had a lot of fever, they only had their pants on them, they had injuries. But I should have know that if they succeed until there, they were strong enough to survive after. And thanks to them, we were able to find the man we were searching for. His daughter was in the same class than the older one and thanks to this information, we were able to trace him. Now, to go more in depth about those two boys-"

"You know who they are, right?" The host asked to the man. This one looked down a second and nodded.

"Yes, I know who they are. The only persons knowing are me, the cops working on the case at that time, all retired and their doctors at that time but we will never compromise their wish of being anonymous. All I can tell is that they succeed in their life despite that."

"Of course, we understand. Keep going."

"One of them was seventeen and the second one was sixteen. Like we said, the man kidnapped kids who ran away and in both case, they say they already saw or talk to him before the events. They trusted him when he proposed to help them while they were in the street."

"Why did those kids run away?" The host asked. The detective seemed uneasy at first and crossed his arms.

"They weren't likely to talk to us about that but we figured out a few things and they finally admit what was happening to them. The younger one was living in a foster home, we could see he was neglect, he didn't eat a lot during the time they were locked in the warehouse but he was way skinnier than the other one and when we asked him how he was living, he explained how hard it was. He was the older one in the house between the childs, they were all neglected and thanks to his testimony, we took care of those others kids. They had really poor conditions of living, actually, besides the fact they weren't fed like they should have been. The boy couldn't take it anymore after his parents already left him on the sidewalk and he ran away. For the other one...Like for three of the others victims, we saw marks on the his skin. He was leaving with his uncle and his aunt at that time because he lost his parents when he was young and the poor boy had been abused, hit by the man's belt every time this one wanted to punish him. It was a hard time and like the other, one day, he decided it was enough. They just wanted to live better. They all had reasons to run away but the man apparently knew them and was especially tracking those kids."

That's when four pictures appeared on the screen. Next to each other, on the top of the screen was two pictures of Patrick in the hospital. They blurred his face but showed the scars he had on his ribs and on the other picture, the burn. Under those pictures were Joe's. They could see he was skinny and that he also had the burn on his shoulder blade. Of course, his face was blurred too. Still, Pete slowly turned his head towards Patrick. This one was staring at the screen, felt like his heart was about to explode. His body was suddenly warm and he slowly looked down. Joe turned his head towards Pete, wondering how he could have figured anything out. But it all made sense to him now. He recognized the scars on Patrick's ribs and understood why he was hiding his back in the bathroom. Even without the reportage, Pete already knew the mark, they talked about it a lot in the news at that time. Pete felt probably as sick as Patrick at that moment and Brendon and Andy noticed something was going on. They straightened, looking at Pete. Joe did the same but because he had this urge to protect Patrick from every word Pete could tell.

"What is it, Pete?" Brendon asked, raising an eyebrow. The bassist was waiting for Patrick to face him, to ask what he was thinking about, to tell him he wasn't the boy they saw on the screen. But Patrick didn't. He kept looking down, biting his bottom lips. When he dared to look at Pete, this one could see how Patrick was begging him to not tell anything with only his eyes. Pete's heart skipped a beat as he stood up, walking away from the couch and passing his hands in his hair. Andy paused the broadcast and looked at Pete, like Brendon. Joe turned his head towards Patrick, this one looking down again as he tried to comfort himself with his own arms. Pete turned towards the singer, his hands still on his head.

"Tell me it's not real, Patrick. Tell me I'm wrong, I'm begging you..."

Brendon stood up, hoping he wasn't understanding the conversation. Patrick wasn't able to talk, his throath was aching. "I..." He tried before he stopped. Joe stood up and put a hand in front of Patrick, looking at Pete.

"Leave him alone, Pete..." He said calmly. Pete looked at him and let his arms going down.

"Don't tell me you kn... Oh god, that explain a lot of things." He said before he turned around again, trying to think clearly. So, Joe knew. How did he knew, he had no idea. Maybe he saw the marks on his shoulder or something like that.

"Pete..." He heard Patrick saying.

"Pete what is going on?" Brendon asked again, his heart beating faster.

"What is-? What..." Pete Began, not stopping to walk. "Oh god I can't believe it..."

"Pete." Brendon said more dryly. He had to know, he couldn't just watch his friend panicking like that.

"You want to know? You really wanna know?" Pete suddenly asked, walking towards Brendon. Patrick stood up, repeating his name again.

"Don't-" Joe began.

"This kid, there, it's him!" Pete exclaimed, pointing at the pictures on the top of the screen.

And there was a long silence.

A very long silence. Very long until Patrick stood up on his now weak legs to leave the room. Joe kept staring at Pete before shaking his head. "You stupid..." He didn't finish his sentence, he shook his head again before he walked away. Pete couldn't say anything more. He knew he shouldn't have to say it like that but it was just difficult. The others couldn't believe what they heard and were staring at the open door without moving or saying anything.

 

Joe walked towards Patrick. This one against Joe's car, his arms crossed as he was freezing. Joe quickly walked towards him.

"Patrick!" He said before feeling Patrick's hand against his chest. This one tried to hit him but he was clearly to weak to do it properly. He saw Patrick's chin shaking and he opened his mouth again, being interrupted. The three others had walk towards the door too but stayed there.

"Y-You knew! You knew we were going to watch that... You knew..." He was saying but he couldn't keep his voice very loud. Joe put his hands on Patrick's arms.

"Hey, even if I had tell you, he would have watch. Patrick, don't be mad at me, please..."

"I'm not..." Patrick whispered, looking down before he crossed his arms again, feeling another shiver. Joe pulled him against him, letting one of his hands going in his hair and the other on his back.

"We need to talk calmly about that with the others, okay?" Joe said. Patrick was surprised he was that calm and he raised his head, looking at Joe. They were very close and didn't even notice the others were there.

"I don't want to..." Patrick said, his voice shaking as well.

"I know but it's too late now... We're gonna tell them okay. I'm with you in that. So when I'm saying we're gonna tell them, Patrick-"

"No... Don't..." Patrick said, shaking his head. Joe slightly smiled at him, tilting his head. He couldn't help but let his fingers slowly caressing Patrick's cheek.

"It's okay. I'm ready."

"But I'm not..."

"But I'm with you."

"Joe..." Patrick said before he looked down. Joe pursed his lips and put his fingers on Patrick's chin to raise his head.

"Look at me. You know I'm not gonna give up on you. It never happened, right?" He said. Patrick nodded, bitting his bottom lip as he was looking at Joe. "And you trust me, right?" Even if he was feeling bad, he kept staring directly at Joe's eyes. He didn't feel the increase of his heartbeat and neither did Joe. Again, Patrick nodded. The singer felt a weird sensation in his heart because of the stress but kept looking, kept agreeing even if it was difficult. "So what are you afraid of? You have me..." He whispered. They totally had a moment at this instant and the others didn't know if they had to leave them. But with all that happened, they surely didn't want to. "So no more secrets with the others, now... Okay?" He asked again. Patrick didn't nod this time but kept staring at Joe.

Patrick slowly put his hands on each sides of Joe's face, this one letting Patrick's chin free. The singer get close to the guitarist and could feel Joe's hand reaching his waist, making his heart skip a beat. It probably just stopped beating when their lips met in an enjoyable exchange. They both had very soft lips. Joe always knew he would taste like Heaven might taste, incredibly good, sweet, and with a touch of almond because of the milk Patrick was always drinking. It wasn't butterflies in their stomach but birds trying to find their way out, hiting their interior in a pleasant way. Was it weird for Patrick to feel like Joe's way of kissing was manlier than his? They were now kissing hard, mouth closed though to keep it chaste and he felt like Joe was conducting the action when he didn't even started it, and Patrick let himself be thrilled with just the guitarist's warm body against his. Their hearts were beating fast, they had shivers and didn't want to let go of the other. But they had to take their breath and slowly, they separated their lips, staying very close. Patrick let his forehead resting against Joe's, on tip-toes. They had their eyes closed as they were catching their breath. Joe had his hands on Patrick's, still against the guitarist's cheeks. Those were warm and red. Joe was the first one to open his eyes and enjoy seeing Patrick's like that, close and looking innocent, biting his bottom lip with his eyes closed and blushing. Joe stopped analyzing his face when Patrick opened his eyes and they looked at each other during a few seconds before Patrick slightly moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, making Joe's heart shrink.

"No more secrets..."


End file.
